


The Unexpected Purchase

by LagLemon



Category: Captain America, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel Comics - Fandom, The Avengers
Genre: Blood, Brothel worker!Tony, Brothels, Cap-IM Big Bang 2016, Depression, F/F, M/M, Multi, PTSD, Prostitution, Sex, Temporary Character Death, Violence, War, alchemy au, buying someone's debt, missunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 58,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LagLemon/pseuds/LagLemon
Summary: Steve Rogers was once The Captain in the Queen's Army, a super soldier of immense power. He led them against the country of Hydra and for fifteen years he fought alongside his fellow soldiers, fighting to keep his country safe. But when Bucky Barnes goes missing on the battlefield and is presumed dead, things change for Steve. He finds himself kicked off of the Front with an honorable discharge and is sent back to deal with the aftermath of Bucky's apparent death alone. He has nothing until Bucky's will sends him to The Wasp and Ant, a brothel when Bucky's will states that he is required to purchase something The Wasp wants him to buy. That unexpected purchase ends up being far more than he bargained for. He now has a Courtesan who loves Alchemic Engineering living with him in the house Bucky left to him and he has that Courtesan's debt to pay off.  He isn't sure what's worse - losing Bucky, or realizing that he's in love with his new house guest.





	1. The Purchase

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing artwork for this, done by Wren MassiveSpace is here!!!!
> 
> http://stonypathoffandom.tumblr.com/post/153728424833/my-art-for-the-cap-im-big-bang-2016-as-soon-as-i
> 
> I'm going to be fixing things as I go if I find any mistakes :D Hopefully there won't be anything massively wonky but let me know if you find any and I'll fix it! I'm going to work on it as a series, so there will be other fics to go with it at some point! Thanks for reading! :D :D

Steve was weary; he felt like he was nothing more than a few scraps of cloth sewed together over bone, a marionette from older days, one that was ready for the junker’s bin.  He had been up all day dealing with Bucky’s estate, having been called to the Grand Executor’s residence in the early hours in the morning when the news of Bucky’s now certain demise had come in through the wire.  He hadn’t eaten a thing since the bleak breakfast of dry toast he had scrounged in the Maximoff Inn’s dining room before the sun had come up, and he hadn’t eaten nearly enough, his stomach was too queasy to handle much more than a few slices. 

Steve had dealt with hunger before, and exhaustion – those were the two staples of a soldier’s diet these days.  The war had started fifteen years prior, when Steve was still a teenager; back before the super soldier serum had coursed through his veins, he had always been hungry, and the war had made things so much worse.  Hunger he knew.  What he wasn’t used to was the ache in his ribs, the ache in his _heart_.  The words had been more painful to hear than to read on the telegram he had been handed at the Inn’s front desk – hearing the Grand Executor, that _bastard_ who lived in splendor while everyone else was begging for scraps as the war continued on outside the city, say that Bucky was _gone_ , that the search was over even though the army had found no body had been harder than anything he had gone through and that included his own mother’s death.  It had made him angry too, far angrier than he had ever been.  The Grand Executor had read Bucky’s will so goddamned _calmly_ ; it had been worse than a stabbing, and Steve had suffered through plenty of those, both in battle and before.  It was like the Grand Executor hadn’t cared at all – and of course, he hadn’t.  The Grand Executor hadn’t known Bucky; he likely didn’t know more than a single percent of the men and women whose wills he handled in any given day.  The man was a bureaucrat – a paper pusher, bred and raised to it, a man who lived with fine silver and wine as his steady house guests.  The Grand Executor didn’t know about war, or death or what it was like to have to scrape together money to survive starvation in the winter.  He merely read things aloud and doled out legal documents that needed signatures.  The Grand Executor lived off the fees paid to him by those who made wills – he lived by leeching the wealth from the very pockets of the soldiers who came to him knowing that death would likely be the outcome of their service for Queen and Country. 

It had been a long time since Steve had drawn up his own will and handed over the fee to have the Grand Executor keep his papers in order.  He had served as the Captain for fourteen years now as the Queen’s propaganda tool, a super soldier who could crush anything.  Yet there were a few things he couldn’t crush, and that was death.  He was strong, but he couldn’t stop that from claiming the people he loved.   

Still, Steve supposed there were worse ways to spend a day, far worse things to do instead of waiting around in a plush office for someone to read Bucky’s papers aloud.  He could think of a few worse days easily, without even really having to dig too deeply into memory.  And to think, he had once thought that the worst thing was being laughed at by one of Bucky’s dates.  He was numb now, and everything seemed almost funny when he knew it shouldn’t.  It was like he was floating about in a dream, waiting to wake up. 

The day he had found out Bucky had gone missing on the battlefield had been far, far worse than this day.  He loved Bucky with all of his heart.  He hadn’t wanted to leave Bucky behind in the thick of things, not permanently at least, but he had been replaced as The Captain, his shoes filled by another man who could fit the same masked uniform, one who wasn’t so tired and aching inside.  The news of Bucky’s disappearance had left him sobbing and begging to leave on a mission to recover Bucky, but there had been no one to cover his work, and too many dead already to justify leaving to look for one man no matter how important, how good of a friend that man might have been.   The shock of the army’s response, the thought that Bucky being gone and there being no one to look for him –  of Bucky’s body nowhere to be found – had taken Steve to his knees and despite his superhuman strength, he hadn’t been able to make himself get up again. 

They had sent him home from the Queen’s War, relegated to a job of stacking crates that were to be sent to the Front.  He had tried to barter and fight his way back to the Front but after he had been caught for the tenth time, it was made plain to him that he would not return to the field or to his team, not unless Countess Commander Danvers gave her permission, and she had been more than clear that Steve wasn’t wanted there anymore – not _needed_ there, she had put it.  She meant it as a kindness, he knew, but it didn’t feel like it.  He and the Countess Commander had fought side by side together for years.  She was simply looking out for his wellbeing just as Bucky had.  She and Bucky had often joked about setting Steve up with a nice dame or fellow once the War was over.  The offer had seemed sweet then.  Now he wasn’t sure what he would do if she suggested something like that - not now that Bucky was gone. 

It was the stress of battle that had been his ticket home, Countess Commander Danvers had told him, looking sad, as though the news was sending her home as well.  There had been too many sleepless nights for Steve, too many near deaths and far too many fits of panic for him to be of any use amongst the other soldiers as anything other than cannon fodder; Steve had been good at his job, better than most, really, but he had seen things on the Front that had changed him and everyone, it seemed, knew that.  They couldn’t have a Captain who couldn’t march tirelessly in battle.  They couldn’t have one that was tired of killing.  A letter had fallen into the Countess Commander’s hands a month, and that had been that; a month after Bucky’s disappearance, another letter had appeared.  That was what had _really_ sent him home, even if the Countess Commander wouldn’t admit it.    The letter had been sent by his friend, Margaret Carter, and she had spoken her concerns to Steve before she had done it.  Bucky had asked her to do it in case of the worst, and she had agreed readily.  She had been afraid he might throw himself into the thick of things and end it all once Bucky’s body was found.  She had had no hope of Bucky returning alive and she had mourned deeply for him the same as Steve.  She wanted Steve to be safe – safe from himself as well as the enemy, and Bucky had wanted that too.    Steve had been put on the train from the box yard and shipped back to town before the mud on his boots could dry.

It had been a month since that day, a month spent reading papers regaling people with The Captain’s supposed victories in the war, a month spent living in the Maximoff Inn while his brothers and sisters in arms lived in filth and blood.   And then the letter from the Queen’s agents had arrived.  Bucky had been declared killed in action, becoming a hero in death despite the fact that they hadn’t been able to recover his body. 

Bucky was gone.

The war was over now – for him at least. 

That was the funny thing.  Everyone else could see the War and watch it rage on, but he was expected to stay at home and ignore it.  Yet there was no one to come home to, no family, no _Bucky_.  He was alone now, more alone than he had been on the Front. 

The Grand Executor’s notice of requested appearance had changed things.

Steve hadn’t known that Bucky had made him the sole inheritor of his earthly possessions.  They had never been rich – hell, most days before the War they had been camped out in cheap boarding houses, sharing an apartment when they could scrape together the money, living from paycheck to paycheck; most days when they had struggled to find work, they had eaten whatever they could find, mouldy or not.  Steve didn’t have much in his.  What would someone want with his sketchbooks?  With his tattered clothes, and broken pencils?  Everything he owned was in his battered duffle.  There were no surprises, no property from his family and certainly nothing of real value or consequence.  But Bucky, it seemed, had things to share.  He had taken the time to put together a will far thicker than the standard soldier’s document, and he had been more than happy to stick Steve in it without so much as saying a word about it. 

Steve had known that Bucky hadn’t been entirely broke.  Two weeks before they had joined the war effort as part of the Queen’s Army, Bucky had inherited his grandfather’s home and estate – not that it had been in a liveable state or worth much, according to Bucky.  The older Barnes had spent years waiting to drop the property on a member of his family; he had disowned Bucky’s father when the man had refused to follow him into work as an Alchemist, and for years they had feuded about who should inherit.  Once Bucky’s father and mother had died, the decision had been easier.  Bucky’s grandfather had given it to Bucky in the hopes that the young man would have children that would follow in his _educated_ footsteps – unlike the rest of the family, who had bypassed school and gone on to work in the factories and warehouses.  The requirements he had placed on his own son hadn’t extended to Bucky.  Bucky’s grandfather had offered everything up freely and without attachments, not wanting to leave his wealth and inheritance to the Queen’s Estate, worrying that she might liquidate his assets and have his beloved home knocked down for better prospects to take its place.  It was a kind gift, but a useless one as well.   

What Bucky’s grandfather had left Bucky was an eclectic collection of ancient tools, literature and his beloved house; there had been no money when all things were said and done.  Most of what had been in his accounts had gone to pay his funeral costs, and everything else had gone to his debtors, men and women who had come crawling out of the woodwork like carpenter ants.  The building Bucky had been left with was old, an ancient thing that had required considerable upkeep, and the Alchemic Forge in the lower levels had made it quite costly to start any repairs because no one would touch a house with one in it for fear of being sued.  Bucky hadn’t wanted to keep the place.  He had complained bitterly about it every chance he got, and had argued that sinking his meager paycheck into its upkeep was a waste of good money.  Steve had been under the impression that Bucky had put it on the market for sale while they were at war, but that had never, it seemed, come to pass.  The building had been kept locked up, waiting for him to return to deal with it.  Now it seemed he would never get the chance.  It was in Steve’s hands instead.

The Grand Executor had been very frank with Steve when he had reached the end of the will and started in on its requirements to take ownership.  James Buchanan Barnes had insisted on including stipulations in his will, and if they were not complied with, Steve wouldn’t inherit a single copper.  Steve had been flabbergasted by the announcement.  He hadn’t thought Bucky would include him in anything at all, considering they had never really talked about it.  Of course, once he heard the stipulations, he wasn’t much happier.  What had Bucky been thinking when he had drafted the damn thing?

“You are to go to the Wasp and Ant brothel down in the Red District and make a purchase of the Wasp’s choosing,” the Grand Executor had said, an amused look in his eye.  “After which, you will pick up the token left for her and return to the Grand Executor for the keys, lockbox and deed to the house.”  The man had been kind enough to ask if Steve had understood what any of that had meant, and Steve had nodded along, feeling far too disoriented to ask any questions. The stipulations were so very, very like Bucky.  He could almost hear Bucky’s laughter in his ear.

This left Steve with a problem. 

He had hired company for friends while they were home from the Front on leave, and had done it again once even while they were at the Front, but he had never actually hired anyone for _himself_. 

When he had been growing up, he had always been a stick of a boy, far too thin to attract attention that was kind.  Most people had taken one look at him and turned away, sure that he would die once winter came.  Sickly children didn’t last long in Brooklyn.  He had been lucky.  His mother, Sarah Rogers, had been a down-on-her-luck sort of lady ever since her husband had died but she was incredibly strong, and when no one had expected her to be able to afford her son’s medical bills she had persevered and worked three times as hard as she had had to to keep her son alive.  She had scraped by, but her job as a nurse hadn’t given her much in the way of time off, so she had been forced to leave Steve, when he was bedridden, alone with only their neighbor’s excitable son – Bucky – for company.  Bucky had been the one who had run off and hired company; he had reveled in the wickedness of the act, spending every last dime he had owned on buying someone for the night – or so he had said.  Steve had never known what had really happened behind closed doors, and while Bucky had bragged, he had never given Steve any real details.  Bucky’s parents had hated his choice of companions; Bucky had spread his time equally between men and women, and when they had insulted him for it he had done it more and more often just to make them angrier.  Steve didn’t think badly of the company Bucky had kept; the courtesans, as they called themselves had been kinder than most.  The women and men in Brooklyn, their childhood home, had been gentle enough folk – not too rich, but not too poor either.  The courtesans had been the ones patting him on the head and offering him food more often than not.  Everyone else had spat at him or shoved him out of their way.

The courtesans in the Queen’s city were a different sort of people.  Here there was an entire _district_ devoted to them, but he rarely saw them outside of the brothels they called home.  Those brothels were open around the clock and a night of pleasure could cost as much as a man’s monthly wages.  There were courtesans here who took only pennies for their pay, yes, but there were far less of them than there had been when Steve was growing up.  The brothels Steve had walked past were places that catered to all sorts of different things.  He had heard rumors of some services costing as much as a Gold Sorel – a year’s wage – and most of those whispers came from the staff who attended the courtesans at the Wasp and Ant.  According to Bucky, the courtesans at the Wasp and the Ant were special, entertainers as well as servants of the brothel.

Bucky had been a big fan of the Queen’s city’s brothels.  He had dragged Steve down to visit them every time they were in the city – which become more and more frequent as the years went by, and eventually those quiet rooms had become their home away from home.  Their place Brooklyn became too expensive to live in year-round.  The commute was expensive, sometimes more than they made in two or three day, and neither of them could afford to pay for a place to rent on their own so they had stuck together.  The brothels in the Queen’s city could be handy, a cheap place to spend the night, but neither of them had ever set foot in the Wasp and Ant.  Steve wondered idly if this was some kind of joke – a way for Bucky to pull his leg from beyond the grave.  It was strange that Bucky had picked this brothel in particular since he had never claimed to have gone there. 

Steve went back to the Maximoff Inn after waiting patiently for copies of Bucky’s Will to be written out for him and headed straight to bed after a cold supper of bread and hard cheese.  Tomorrow he would get himself cleaned up and head out to the Wasp and Ant.  He knew he wasn’t going to enjoy his visit, but at least this way he would be honoring Bucky’s last request, however bizarre it was.

 

 

It took him far longer than he expected to leave bed the next morning.  Once he did, still weary, he paid the bill and was forced to admit that he didn’t have enough for another day’s rent.  He set out to the Queen’s Office to seek out his next, and final paycheck.  By the time he made it back from the line with the other men and women who had returned from the front, the light was already dying on the horizon, and the air had picked up a chill.  He hugged his duffle to his chest, watching for muggers and headed down the road to the Red District, hoping to arrive unmolested.  He had been given quite the bonus this time, likely at the Countess Commander Danver’s instruction.  He had over three hundred silvers in his bag, and a hundred coppers.  She had been far too generous, but he wasn’t going to say no to the money – not now that he was essentially a vagrant.  He was proud, but he wasn’t stupid.  He hid his newfound wealth well, not wanting to attract attention.  A woman he walked past was not quite so lucky.  Three men came out of the alley and leapt on her; she was a waifish little thing, no more than a hundred pounds or so – no match for three attackers with weapons, although she could take one at a time quite easily.  She fought them with such ferocity Steve was reminded of a wasp trapped in under a glass.  He dropped his duffle to the floor and sprang into action, helping her subdue the remaining two attackers, glad for his size.  Erskine’s super soldier serum had given him strength and he wasn’t going to waste it even if he did feel adrift in a sea of misery.

The woman smiled at Steve when they were done, her short auburn hair in utter disarray.  She was dressed in a short black-and-yellow skirt made of silk, and her face was made up for a night on the town, her lips scarlet and her eyes lined with black kohl; her eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked down at her defeated attackers.  “Well, I didn’t expect that tonight,” she said, dusting off her gloved hands.

Steve laughed.  “I don’t think _anyone_ plans to be attacked in the middle of the night, if that’s any consolation.”

The woman chuckled darkly.  “Oh, I wouldn’t say I didn’t know it was going to happen – I just didn’t think it would be today, that’s all.  Down here, there’s always someone looking out for a heavy purse to swipe.”  She held out here hand.  “I’m Janet.”

“I’m Steve,” Steve said, shaking her hand.  “Do you need an escort home?”

Janet wrinkled her nose.  “That’s an interesting choice of words there, sweetheart,” she said.  “But sure.  I could use an _escort_.”

Steve scooped up his bag and turned to find her rolling one of her attackers over with her boot.  She frowned at the man, pursing her ruby red lips as she looked him over, her hands finding their way to her hips.

“Someone you know?”  Steve asked, slinging his duffle over his arm.

“You could say that,” she said with a sigh.  “They’re the usual oafs – the kind we hire for security sometimes down at the club.  I guess I’m going to have to talk to Hank about getting them taken off the roster and blacklisted.  I don’t think anyone’s going to feel safe with a bunch of _thieves_ watching their backs.”

“Probably not,” Steve said. 

Janet looped her arm through Steve’s, tugging him away from the unconscious men.  “Oh well.  Let’s leave them here for the Watchmen.  They’ll clean up the mess.  It’s their job, after all.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, scowling at their unconscious attackers.  He didn’t like thieves and muggers all that much, but the thought of leaving them lying out in the open didn’t sit well with him either – not with what he knew about the city.  He didn’t want to have to drag them off to the Watchmen’s Building, but it would be safer for the villains if he did.  It took hours for the Watchmen to process people these days.  Still, he didn’t have the time to waste tonight.

Janet patted him on the shoulder.  “The patrols come through here every fifteen minutes or so.  I saw one while I started my walk, so they should be around again soon.  The cretins be fine.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.  “I guess it’s alright then.”

“You’re a real treat,” Janet laughed.  “Don’t worry about them, darling.  They’re not worth the time.  Besides, this isn’t the first time the Watchmen have found the remains of fools who jumped the wrong lady.  Come on, I’ve got to get back to work.  Hank’s going to be grumpy if I’m late again.”  She tugged Steve along the street, leading the way while still glancing up at Steve every once in a while.

“So where are we going?”  Steve asked after a minute of silence.  He had been around the Red District before, but he didn’t know every little place here; he hoped he would be able to find his way back to the main gates when he was finished walking her home – if it was home she was headed to.

“I work at the Wasp and Ant,” Janet said, patting Steve’s arm.  “I’m assuming you’re from out of town?”

“I’ve been back the Front for a month now, but no, I’m not new in town,” Steve said, neatly sidestepping a pile of rotting fruit.  “I just don’t normally come down here, that’s all.”

“Oh?”  Janet turned, eyeing Steve as though she suspected he was lying.

He flushed under her scrutiny, all too keenly aware that she was reading him far better than most people did.  “What?”  he asked.  “Did I say something strange?”

Janet’s smile returned brighter than ever.  She leaned against Steve’s arm, using him to avoid stepping on the remains of a broken barrel.  “It’s not that,” she said, tugging him towards a new street.  “It’s more of a _surprise_ , I suppose, that’s all.”

“A surprise?”  Steve cocked an eyebrow.  “What’s surprising about me?”

“You are one of life’s mysteries,” she said, patting his arm again.  “You’ve never been into a brothel on your own, have you?  At least not to purchase someone for yourself.”

Steve sighed.  “Is it that obvious?”

“To those who know the look, yes,” Janet chuckled.  “What brings you here, if you don’t mind my asking?  Did you get lonely?”

“I’m here to fulfil a debt,” Steve said, patting his coat pocket where Bucky’s will was hidden, still folded neatly.  “I’m supposed to go to the Wasp and Ant to buy something the Wasp chooses – whoever that is.”

“You don’t sound so happy about that,” Janet said, smirking.  “What’s wrong?  Scared of all the naked men and women waiting for you?”

“No,” Steve sputtered, ducking his head.  “I just don’t know why Bucky wrote it into his will, that’s all.  I think he just wanted to laugh at me from beyond the grave.”

“Bucky Barnes died?”  Janet paused, turning in Steve’s arm.  “Oh, dear.  I’m sorry to hear that.  He was a good man.”

“You knew him?” Steve asked.

“In a way.  He was a good customer and he was loved by quite a few people on the staff of the Wasp and Ant.  But if this unexpected purchase is in his will, he must have been serious then.  People usually don’t do that sort of thing unless they mean business.”

“That’s what the Grand Executor said,” Steve sighed, shaking his head.

“You should show it to me,” Janet said, peeling off her gloves.  “I’m good with business documents.”

Steve smiled sadly.  He had no doubt that Janet knew what she was talking about, although he had a feeling she was involved in a slightly _different_ business than most.  He fished the copy of Bucky’s will out of his pocket, confidant that she wasn’t going to rob him and wander off with it and handed it to her.

Janet unfolded the will, running her gloved fingers over the creases as she smoothed them out.  She frowned at the words as she read, tapping the paper with her index finger as she moved from one line to the next.  When she was done, she folded the paper up and handed it back.  “This is quite the will,” she said, looping her arm through Steve’s again.

“Any advice?”  Steve asked as she led him down the street again.  There was a mansion at the end of the block, a gaudy yellow and black thing with five floors and at least thirty rooms.  Steve could just make out the sign hanging above the door.  This was the Wasp and Ant.

“Well,” Janet said, leading Steve up the front steps.  “The first thing is to remember to breathe, and act natural.”  She pulled open the front door, flashed a smile at the three men standing guard in the entrance hall and dragged Steve into the foyer.  Steve had never been in a building with such a large staircase; the steps were carved out of darkly stained wood, big enough to accommodate three or four people across and thick enough to hold even the heaviest patron.  The walls were painted a dark ruby red, framed by wooden beams and black marble floor.  Each step they took brought them deeper and deeper into the building.  There was a bar off at the back beside yet another grand staircase, and tables were scattered around the room, everything lit by the yellow glow of electricity. 

Steve tried not to gawk.

He hadn’t seen a light bulb since his time working as a part time cleaning boy at the Apothecary.  Most places weren’t wired into the grids, and those that were charged outrageous fees to keep the light going after dark.  He had thought only the rich had places like this, but apparently the Wasp and Ant were doing better than he had suspected.  The rumors were true.

Janet smiled and shook hands as she made her way through the crowd, dragging Steve along behind her.  She approached the bartender, a stern looking bald man with dark skin, an impeccable goatee and brown eyes, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “How’s business today, Luke?  How’s the wife and Danny?”  She asked, patting the barstool beside her.  “Sit down, Steve.  Take a load off.  We’re going to be here a while.”

Steve sat obediently, happy to be ignored for the time being.  The patrons were scattered about around the room tended by maids dressed in yellow and black uniforms that were exact replicas of Janet’s outfit and butlers dressed in black and red.  Most had crystal ware in their hands, from which they sipped wine and other expensive looking drinks.  Steve glanced at the bar and had to turn away, horrified by the number of bottles he saw in the shelves behind the counter.  There was enough liquor here to drown a squadron for weeks!  How had they stayed so well supplied with the war on their doorstep?

“I got jumped again,” Janet said, tapping the bar.  “Give me a glass of the red, will you dear?”  The bartender smiled and filled up a glass, handing it to her without comment.  She took a slug of the drink, letting out a little gasp of pleasure and set the glass down on the bar.  “Where were we?  Oh yes.  I was attacked.”

“Were they people you knew?”  Luke asked, leaning against the bar.  “I can hunt them down if you want.”

“Don’t worry about it.  If I needed a hero to hire, I’d come right to you.  Steve here helped me out and walked me home,” Janet said, winking at Steve.  “He’s a real peach, isn’t he?”

“Sure,” Luke grunted, polishing a glass with a cleaning cloth.  “He seems swell.”

“He’s here because his friend Bucky Barnes is a jerk and put him in his will,” Janet said.  She stroked Steve’s arm.  “Isn’t that a hoot?”

Luke sighed.  “Did they find him finally?”

“No,” Steve said.  “He’s been declared killed in action.”

“What did he send you here for?” Luke asked, glancing over at Janet.  “If he’s making a purchase, we’ve only go the A-graders out on the floor tonight.”

Janet flapped her hand at Luke, giggling.  “Apparently what he buys is my choice,” she said.

Steve turned on his stool, mindful of the smooth leather he was sitting on.  “Your choice?  You’re the Wasp?” 

Janet goggled at him for a moment and then burst into laughter, slapping the counter with the flat of her hand.  She turned to Luke, leaning closer.  “Oh dear gods.  You think I work here, don’t you?”

Luke’s snort was so loud it nearly sent Steve jumping from his stool.

“You don’t?”  Steve asked, confused.  “But I thought you said you needed to go back to work?”

Janet hopped up onto a stool and sat, crossing one long slender leg over the other.  “I own the place.  I’m Janet Van Dyne.”

Steve swallowed down his discomfort.  “Oh,” he said, his voice cracking.  “I didn’t uh… _know_.”

“I’m not surprised,” Luke said, nodding towards Janet.  “She likes to dress like the maids because she gets a laugh out of seeing people squirm.”

“You’re cruel,” Janet grumbled, knocking back another sip of wine.  “I don’t know why I keep you around.”

“You keep me because I beat the shit out of the riffraff,” Luke chuckled.  He moved away to serve a customer and then slid back into the conversation, a glass and polishing rag held in hand.  “So who are you going to set him up with then?  It’s your choice Barnes asked for, after all.  He had quite a few favourites.”

Janet hummed and looked out at the crowd.  Steve knew that the courtesans were out on the floor, plying their trade, but for the first time in a long time he couldn’t tell them apart from the patrons themselves.  Janet was oblivious to his confusion.  She looked here and there, scanning the crowd, tapping her finger on her lower lip.  “What do you think, Luke?  Do you think he’d like Drew?”

Luke eyed the crowed overtop of his mug as he wiped it down.  “I don’t know.  I’m not in that business – you’re the one with the eye for it,”

“ _Flatterer_ ,” Janet purred, leaning back against the bar.  She sniffed at the remainder of her wine, swirling it in her glass.  She looked Steve over and then turned back to the crowd.  “What do you like in your men?”

“Men?”  Steve sputtered.  How had she known?

Janet rolled her eyes.  “Steve, _darling_ , we don’t _just_ have women working here.  We’ve got some lovely men here who know how to treat a gentleman like yourself to a very, good, time.”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” Steve said, looking at the crowd instead of at Janet’s knowing smile.  She was right about the men being lovely; some of them were even more beautiful than the paintings he had seen in the museums.  Some of them had long hair, some short.  They were dressed to look as impressive as possible; he wasn’t surprised by their impeccable grooming and expensive clothing.  They were here to work after all – this was merely their _business_ attire.

“Do you have a preference?”  Janet asked, leaning closer to here Steve.  “Anyone here catch your eye?” 

“I – no.  Not really,” Steve said, clearing his throat.  He glanced at the crowd again, unsure of where he should be looking.  Everyone here was so – elegant.  He had been with soldiers for so long, it was strange to see people chatting and relaxing like this; even though he had been home for over a month, he hadn’t been out much.  He had spent most of his time hiding away in his room, trying to catch up on the sleep that had eluded him for weeks.

Janet sighed, shaking her head.  “I suppose I’ll have to pick one for you then,” she said.  She snapped locked eyes with someone and snapped her fingers, drawing their attention.  A slender man slunk through the crowd towards the bar, a glass of wine in hand.  He was dressed in a shirt made of red and gold silk, his black waistcoat hugging his body in a way that made Steve want to tear it off of him.  His hair was long enough to be pulled back, but wasn’t; instead, it hung down around his chin in curls, as thought he was waiting for someone to run their fingers through it.  He had the darkest hair Steve had ever seen, and thick lashes to match.  His complexion was almost too perfect, and at once Steve knew that he had been made up with masterful precision, although he couldn’t tell if it was from the man’s own hand or another’s.  Even his goatee was perfectly trimmed, leaving not a hair out of place.  This was one of the courtesans, Steve realized.  The stranger’s warm brown eyes widened almost comically when he noticed Steve; he looked away quickly, a smooth smile at the ready and turned to Janet.  “Mistress Van Dyne,” he said, bowing his head.  His long bangs drifted in front of his face for a moment and he swept them away, tucking them back behind his ears.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Tony,” Janet said, sniffing at her wine.  “Are you having a busy night tonight?  Or are you free?”

“I just started my shift for the night,” Tony said, a hand dropping to his hip.  “My usual patrons aren’t in tonight, so I’m a little lonely at the moment, but I’m sure business will pick up.”

Janet chuckled.  “Good.  Then I’ve got someone for you,” she said.  She turned on her stool, giving Steve a slow smile.  “He’s good looking, isn’t he?”

Steve tried to keep his face blank, but his cheeks didn’t seem to want to agree with his decision, flaring a bright pink.  “He’s uh, yes.”

Tony smirked at Steve, running a finger over his lower lip.  “Oh?  Is he my patron for tonight?”

Janet patted Steve on the shoulder.  “He is indeed,” she said.  “Take him up to the Gold Suit and show him a good time, will you?”

Tony nodded to Jan, flashing Steve a smile.  “Well, my Lord?  Shall we go somewhere more private?”

“I’m not a Lord, but alright.”  Steve slipped off of his stool and hesitated, turning to look at Janet.  Should he really be doing this?  He had never slept with someone before, let alone a courtesan and it seemed far too much like neither of them had any choice in the matter.  He had wanted sex to mean something – he had told Bucky this over and over again, but Bucky had never seemed to understand.  Was this really what he wanted?  Was this what Bucky had meant when he had said that the owner of the Wasp and Ant was to choose something for him to buy?

“Go on,” Janet said, patting Steve on the shoulder.  “You’ll be fine, I promise.  He won’t hurt you unless you beg him to.”

Tony looped an arm around Steve’s waist.  “Let’s go, darling,” he purred, leading Steve into the crowd.

“Oh!”  Janet set her wine glass on the table and waved at them to come back.  “Steve – _sweetheart_.  Lend me that copy of your friend’s will, please?  I have someone coming by in a few hours – Matt Murdock.  He’s a lawyer.  I’ll ask him to look it over for you – you know, so you don’t walk into something unexpectedly.”

Steve pulled away from Tony’s embrace and fished the will out of his pocket.  He handed it to Janet, slinging his duffle over his shoulder again.  “Thank you.  I would really appreciate it,”

“Steve,” Janet said, motioning for him to lean closer.  “You don’t have to do _anything_ if you don’t want to.  Paying for company doesn’t mean you have to have sex you know.”  She smiled knowingly and squeezed Steve’s shoulder.  “You’re a good man.  Don’t do something you’ll regret.  I’m sure your friend wouldn’t force you into something.  He seems like the kind of person who wanted to take care of you, not the kind that would want to make you do something you would hate yourself for.”

Steve bowed his head and smiled back.  “You’re right,” he said.  “Thanks.  I’ll keep that in mind.”  He nodded to Luke, who was busy stacking glasses again and walked back over to Tony, who was still waiting patiently a few feet away. 

Tony slipped his arm back around Steve’s waist again.  “So, you bought the Gold Room,” he said, guiding Steve towards the stairs.  His hand was warm on Steve’s back.  He had been touched by men like this in the past, but it had never been by someone who had had an interest in him.  Tony’s smile was the sweetest poison; Steve could see it out of the corner of his eye, and even though Tony wasn’t as tall as he was, the man seemed to be ten feet tall.  The men in the crowd watched as they passed by, their drinks clutched loosely in their hands as though they were about to drop them.  Steve could feel the women watching him, their eyes filled with amusement and envy.  He tried to keep from blushing, wishing he could turn himself to stone so no one could tell how he felt.  Everyone was here for the same reason – they would be heading up the stairs eventually, and yet it still felt like he was being judged.

Tony paused at the steps, giving Steve’s back a rub.  “Come on,” he said, nodding to the stairs.

Steve followed after him, struggling to keep breathing through his panic.

 

 

The Gold Room was beautiful, far more grandiose that Steve had expected.  Everything here was painted with a fine layer of gold; even the wooden trim ringing the room looked like it had been carved out of gold.  By the look of things, this room wasn’t used often, and it was very neatly cared for.  The furniture was in immaculate condition, and even the curtains were freshly pressed and wrinkle free.  He felt uncomfortable stepping on the white carpet, so he took off his shoes in the hallway and set them beside the door before he could track muck inside.  A look down at his socks made him want to burst into flames.  If he had known this was where he was going to end up tonight, he would have bought himself a new pair.  He looked like a grub!  His mother would have smacked him upside the head if she had seen him looking like this.

Tony smirked and took off his polished leather shoes, setting them down neatly beside Steve’s.  “You know you’re allowed to make a mess in here, right?  That’s what the maid service is for,”

Steve smiled weakly.  “I’d rather not make any extra work for them,”

Tony chuckled.  “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.”  He sauntered over to the bed and sat down on top of the blankets, toeing off his maroon socks in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive.  “So, what would you like to do tonight?  Do you have anything in mind?”

“I’ve never really done this before,” Steve confessed, setting his duffle down on the floor beside his shoes.  He shrugged off his leather jacket, folding it up, and set it down on top of the bag.  He prayed that it wasn’t going to stain the carpet and wiped his hands off on his shirt.

Tony raised an eyebrow.  “You’ve never done _this_ , or never done _anything_ at all?”

“I’ve been kind of busy,” Steve said, wishing he didn’t sound so pathetic.  He scratched the back of his head, looking around at the room, trying to find something to stare at that wasn’t Tony and the massive bed.

“Too busy for everything?  Or just too busy to fool around?”  Tony asked, unbuttoning his waistcoat.  He tossed it aside, letting it sail across the room and went to work on the tiny buttons on his shirt.

“A little of both,” Steve said with a sigh.  “Besides, most of the people I met were in the trenches trying to kill each other.  That doesn’t make for very great dinner conversation,”

“True,” Tony laughed.  “So what is it that you do, my Lord?  Anything interesting?”

“I’m a soldier not a Lord,” Steve said, shuffling closer.  He reached out to grab for the back of the nearest chair and shied away when he remembered that the thing was covered in gold paint.  He pulled his hand back, resting it against his trousers, trying not to look as uneasy as he felt.  “I was a Captain.”

“Was?”  Tony said, shucking his shirt.  “You’re not now?”

“I was pulled from the Front and sent home with an honorable discharge,” Steve said, tersely.  He tried to smile when Tony frowned at him, but it came out bittersweet.  “Sorry – it’s something I just found out.  I didn’t think it was going to be permanent.  Well – I assumed it wasn’t going to be.”

“I see,” Tony said.  He patted the bed beside him, fingers resting neatly on his thighs.  “Well, shall we?”

Steve stiffened.  “I don’t uh – I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what to do?”  Tony asked.  He cocked his head to the side, his luscious-looking bangs sliding against his olive-toned skin.  “It’s ok.  You can just sit still.  I can do all the work if you want,”

Steve’s mouth went dry.

“Or we can just talk,” Tony continued, scooting up onto the bed. He wiggled his toes, flashing Steve a smile that was far warmer than it had been before.  “You’ve got me for the entire night.  We have plenty of time on our hands.”

Steve fiddled with the hem of his shirt.  If he was going to be here the entire night, he might as well sit down.  It wasn’t like he was going to be able to stand here forever.  He crept closer, avoiding Tony’s abandoned shirt, and sat down on the edge of the bed after thoroughly inspecting the bottom of his trousers to make sure there wasn’t anything on them.

Tony chuckled and leaned back against the headboard.  “You’re a strange one,”

“I am?”  Steve asked, pulling off his socks.  He folded them up neatly and set them down on the floor so he wouldn’t lose them.

“Well, for one, you’re busy folding up your socks,” Tony said.  “Most of the Lords I know don’t bother with that kind of thing.”

“Again, I’m not a Lord,” Steve chuckled.  “I told you, I’m just a soldier.”

“Captain, then,” Tony said, patting the bed again.  “Come and sit.  You’ve got the broadest shoulders I’ve ever seen and I’d like to get a better look at them,”

Steve smiled sheepishly and pulled his legs up onto the bed.  He inched closer to Tony, but didn’t bridge the gap between them.  “I’m not really a Captain anymore either now that I think about it,” he said with a sigh.

“How about I just call you your name then? Steve was it?” Tony said, lifting his foot up.  He set it daintily in Steve’s lap.  “Well, if you’re going to stay over there, you can give me a foot rub.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow.

Tony wiggled his toes.  “What?  You wanted to take it slow.  This is slow, right?”

Steve smiled.  “Yeah, this is slow alright,” he said.  He ran his fingers over the top of Tony’s foot and was rewarded with a twitch of surprise.  “What?”  he said, trying not to laugh.  He slid his thumb over Tony’s toes one by one, eliciting even more twitches.

“I wasn’t expecting your hands to be so rough,” Tony said with a grimace.

“Ah,” Steve said.  Tony’s skin was soft beneath his hands, smooth in a way Steve had thought was just an elaborate story told by the rich to the poor.  He looked his hands over, wondering what had brought about the twitch and immediately realized the problem.  His hands were calloused, hardened by weeks of battle and hand-to-hand combat.  “Sorry,” he said.  Damn it!  Why was he so horrible at this?

“It’s fine,” Tony said, wiggling his toes again.  “Only one person has ever rubbed my feet before in a place like this.  It’s a nice change.”

Steve lifted Tony’s foot up and rubbed his thumb against Tony’s heel.

Tony groaned; the sound startled Steve so badly, he nearly dropped Tony’s foot.

Tony leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes.  “You can do that all night if you want,” he said.  “I’ve been up since dawn, working.”

“Sure,” Steve said, rubbing a little harder.  This was familiar territory; he had done this for his mother a thousand times after she had returned from work, and even Bucky had been happy to get a foot rub every once in a while.  Tony melted under his ministrations, sinking deeper into the comforter and pillows; after an hour or so, he started snoring loudly.  The way his chest was rising and falling with each slow breath made it clear that he wasn’t going to be getting up any time soon unless Steve shook him awake.  Steve smiled and set Tony’s foot down.  He was more than a little tired himself.  A nap couldn’t hurt, could it?  He rolled onto his side and lay down on the other side of the bed, letting his eyes shut; the sound of Tony snoring beside him was comforting.  In the dark, he could pretend that he was back at home, with Bucky at his side, sleeping in their small, cramped room.

 

 

Steve awoke to Tony nuzzling the back of his neck; the other man was still asleep, and didn’t seem to realize that he was doing it.  During the night Tony must have rolled over and snuggled up to him, although Steve couldn’t tell who had started the snuggling to begin with.  Steve opened his eyes slowly, enjoying Tony’s body pressed up against his back.  He hadn’t ever slept in the same bed as someone in a long time – not since Bucky had been home, and he hadn’t realized just how comforting it was.  There hadn’t been any nightmares to haunt his dreams this time.  He felt better than he had in ages.

Someone rapped smartly on the door.

Tony jerked awake, his eyes wide and wild.  He looked over at Steve and then at the door, going sheet white.

“What is it?”  Steve asked with a yawn.

“Oh god – I fell _asleep_ ,” Tony said, his voice nearly a whisper.

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, sitting up.  He scrubbed a hand over his face and stretched.  “I guess that means they want the room back, huh?”

“You’re not angry?”  Tony asked, sitting up.  He frowned at Steve, picking at the blankets they hadn’t even bothered to move the night before.  “You paid a lot of money to have me for the night, Captain – you know that, right?”

Steve smiled softly.  “That’s ok.  I think this is the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.  It was worth it.”

Tony didn’t look like he agreed.  He scowled and watched Steve get up, not moving from the bed even when Steve started towards the door with his socks in hand.  “You should ask for a refund,” he said after a minute of solemn contemplation.

“Why?”  Steve asked, picking up his shoes.  “I don’t think there was anything that happened last night that I didn’t want.”

“Captain,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “You paid for _sex_ and you didn’t get any,”

“Technically,” Steve said, hoisting up his duffle bag, “I didn’t actually specify that sex _needed_ to happen.”

Tony sprang up from the bed, gathering his clothing up from the floor.  He struggled into his socks, bouncing on one foot at a time and swept up his shirt and waistcoat.  “ _Wait_ – don’t just rush out!”

“But they knocked,” Steve said, stepping into his shoes.  “I’m pretty sure that means they want us out of here,”

“It does,” Tony muttered, pulling on his shirt.  He buttoned it as he walked over to his shoes, his clever fingers moving quickly over the laces.  “But that doesn’t mean you need to rush – unless you want to get rid of me or something.”

Steve frowned.  “Why would I want to get _rid_ of you?”

“You could have asked for someone else if I wasn’t what you fancy,” Tony said, pulling on his waistcoat.  He buttoned it up and settled his hands on his hips, practically glowering at Steve as though Steve had done something horribly offensive to him.

“I didn’t say that,” Steve said.

“Then why didn’t you wake me up?”  Tony demanded.

“Well, I fell asleep too you know,” Steve grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s no excuse!”  Tony snapped.

“It is too,” Steve said, pulling open the door.

Tony shut the door.  “We’re not done here.”

“Yes we are,” Steve said, grinding his teeth.  He was sorely tempted to move Tony out of the way, but he didn’t want to risk hurting the man by accident; he was irritated, but that didn’t mean he had to be rude.  “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you because I didn’t want to have sex, but it’s not exactly like I’m in a rush, you know.”

“Then why are you here?”  Tony growled.

“I’m here because I had to be,” Steve said, reaching for the doorknob again.

This time Tony didn’t stop him; he looked hurt when Steve walked out the door and stood transfixed in the doorway as Steve stalked down the hall.

 

 

Steve was just starting down the stairs when Tony caught up to him.  He sighed as Tony grabbed his arm, and slowed to a halt, not wanting to send either of them tumbling down the stairs.  Superhuman strength could be a pain; he always had to worry about hurting someone by accident even if he was only walking down the stairs.  “Yes?” he said.

“You should come back again tonight,” Tony said, standing on the step above Steve’s so he could look him in the eye.  “I’ll do better this time.”

Steve started.  “What?  What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can do better,” Tony said, tugging on Steve’s sleeve.  “I’ve been doing this since I was fifteen – I can do better.  Just let me work it out with Lady Van Dyne and I’ll fix things,”

“You’ve been – since you were _fifteen_?”  Steve’s heart felt like it was going to drop out of his chest.  Tony had started that young?  The man he was looking at now had to have been almost as old as he was – if not older – and that would have meant that he had been here for most of his _life_.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Tony grumbled, his cheeks colouring.  “Everyone here’s been around for years, and I only became a courtesan at eighteen.  Before that I helped out in the kitchen and cleaned up after people.”  He tugged at Steve’s sleeve again.  “Look, just leave it up to me, alright?  I’ll talk to Lady Van Dyne and I’ll fix it.”

“Tony,” Steve said, taking Tony’s hand in his, “There’s nothing to work out.  I enjoyed last night.  I don’t need you to make it up to me.  It was a lovely night.”

“But we didn’t _do_ anything,” Tony said with a huff.  He followed Steve down the stairs, glancing at the dining room where Janet sat lounging in a puffy red leather chair, her hand resting over her eyes.  Bucky’s will was resting on her crossed legs.

Steve led them through the dining room, keenly aware that they were the only people around aside from the maids and butlers; everyone else was still asleep, or had paid for another day, he mused.  Most of the people he had seen the night before hadn’t seemed like the kind of people that got up at the crack of dawn unless they absolutely had to be up.   

Janet looked up as they got closer, letting her slender hand drop into her lap.  She picked up the will, moving it from hand to hand.  “So,” she said.  “How was your night?”

“Awful,” Tony said.

“Wonderful,” Steve said, rolling his eyes at Tony.  “Don’t listen to him.”

Janet laughed.  “I see you two are getting along.”

“He’s lovely,” Steve said, setting his duffle down on the floor.  “I like him.” 

“Good,” Janet said, her smile brightening.  “So I talked with Murdock last night, and he had a look at the will.”

“I see,” Steve said solemnly.  “Was there anything strange in it?  Anything I should be worried about?”

“Well, first off, you owe me five coppers,” she said, holding out her hand.

Steve bent down and rummaged around in his duffle, pulling out his change purse.  He handed her the coppers, even though he had no idea why he owed them to her and watched as she pulled a piece of paper out from under her, setting it on top of the will.  He wondered why she had been hiding it from sight. 

“What’s that?”  he asked.

“It’s a bill of sales,” she said. 

“For what?”  Steve asked, confused.  He hadn’t known you could _get_ a receipt for purchasing a courtesan for the night.

“It’s for the night you spent with Tony, and for his debt,” Janet said, handing Steve the papers.  He accepted them, feeling dizzy, unsure of what to do. 

Tony owed a debt – and he owned it?  Is that what she had said?  But that couldn’t be right.

“What do you mean?”  Steve asked, looking from the papers to Tony, who seemed just as confused as he was.  He had heard about people buying out the contracts on courtesans, but he had never thought that something like that was actually real.  He had always thought it was an old wives tale, told to naughty children who were close to being sold for bad behavior.

“Murdock looked the will over for me and he says that there’s fine print at the bottom that the Grand Executor conveniently forgot to mention.  It states that you must buy yourself a companion.  By companion, your friend meant something permanent – not just one night,” Janet said.  She tapped the paper.  “Tony’s the cheapest person I have on hand.”

“ _Cheapest_?”  Tony grunted, his rage palpable.  “I’m the cheapest?  I thought we had a deal, Jan.”

“We did,” Janet said, resting her chin on her hand.  “But let’s face it, Anthony.  You’re getting _old_.”

Tony took a step back like he had been slapped.  “I have a few more good years in me still,” he said, his eyes widening.  His face was as pale as milk again, only this time there was real fear in his eyes.  “You swore you wouldn’t sell me.  You swore!”

“You’ve got wrinkles,” Janet said, gesturing lazily to Tony’s face.  “While _I_ appreciate them, they’re not the best advertisement.  I don’t want to be known as the woman who peddles old courtesans, Anthony, ones who deserve better.  Besides, you didn’t want to be here forever – you had plans the last I checked.”

“I refuse to be sold like some kind of _sheep_ ,” Tony hissed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not selling you – I’m selling your debt.  When your father came to me all those years ago to pay off his debt, I was glad to take you as collateral,” Janet drawled, drumming her fingers on her chin, “I made it clear to you then that you would only remain in my care until you were no longer useful.  You are, as of this moment, no longer useful.”

“But _Jan_ ,” Tony pleaded, his hands dropping to hand loosely at his sides.

“Believe me, Tony, when I say I love you dearly and that this is not a punishment.  I’m not throwing you out because I hate you.  Steve’s a nice enough fellow.  I had Danny look him up while you two were upstairs and you’ll be fine.  He’s got a house of his own – it’s even got an Alchemic Forge in it.  You’ll get over it.”

“But,” Tony sputtered.

“Stane and Hammer are dropping by today,” Janet said quietly, her gaze locked on Tony’s.  “They offered to take on your debt too, for far more money.”

Tony’s terror morphed slowly into disgust.  His fists clenched. 

“If you go with Steve now, you will never have to let either one of those men lay a finger on you again,” Janet said.  “It’s what you’ve wanted for a long time now, isn’t it?”

Tony scowled.  “You know it is.”

“So go get packed, darling,” Janet said.  “You can take whatever you want – if it belongs to you.”

“Thank you Lady Van Dyne,” Tony said stiffly.  He turned and left without another word, stomping his way across the dining room towards the kitchen. 

Janet turned to Steve, letting out a weary sigh.  “I’ve had Ororo pick out a few of the best collars from the store and Luke is going to bring them out in a moment.  You’ll have to pick which one you want,”

“Why does he need a collar?”  Steve asked with a frown.  He had never seen anyone wearing one before, but he had heard rumors about them.

“People need to know that he’s in your debt,” Janet said.  “You don’t know anything about how this works, do you?”

“No,” Steve said.  “I didn’t know you could buy people’s debt, let alone that they need to be advertising that with a collar around their necks like someone’s pet cat.”

“It happens all the time,” Janet said.  “In Tony’s case, his father signed him over for a debt, thus putting him under permanent contract until the bill is paid.  Unfortunately for Tony, Howard Stark drank his money away, and never came up with the gold to buy him back before he died in a tragic automobile accident.  The man was an utter bastard, and the world is better off without him.”  Janet scowled and shook her head.  “I would have liked to keep Tony out of this business altogether, but there wasn’t much choice after what happened to Howard’s estate.  His poor wife was left with his debt, and she wasted away without him even though she worked damn hard to fix things.  His debtors took her for everything.  She died too poor to do anything to help her only son.  Obadiah Stane was Howard’s business partner.  He came to her after the funeral, demanding the debt Howard owed be paid by her heir, and well, let’s just say that if the primary debt hadn’t been owed to me, he would have made things very nasty for everyone.”

“I don’t understand,” Steve said with a sigh.  “His father shouldn’t have been able to do that to him.  It’s not fair.”

“Think of it this way.  Tony’s debt is from his mother, who inherited it from her husband.  The main debt is paid off to me.   I took on the full loan and hand the payments off to everyone else during the week,” Janet said, motioning for Luke to come over to them.  He held a black leather case out to Janet, keeping it steady as she snapped it open and revealed its contents with a grim smile.

“How much does he still owe?”  Steve asked, eyeing the collars.  They were beautiful, made with the most advanced kind Alchemy the city had to offer; he knew how much that kind of thing cost, and it wasn’t cheap.  The metals were fusions never found in the real world on their own, created by men and women who had studied for years to get their skills honed to perfection.  There were only a few born every year with the skill to join the guild of Alchemists, and those who did could command exorbitant prices for their work.  A collar like this could command four, five hundred gold Sorrels at the very _least_.

“Oh, it’s not that much.  He only owes me eight thousand gold now,” Janet said.

Steve felt like he was going to faint.  Eighty thousand gold Sorrels?  How the hell had any man managed to rack up that much debt?  And good god – how much had the debt started as?

Janet smiled, lifting up one of the collars to inspect it.  It was made of red and gold metal bands, each masterfully woven together to look like they were roses still on the vine.  The latch at the front looked like a golden bud, waiting to bloom.  Steve stood mesmerized, unsure of what to do.

“I see you like it?”  Janet said with a knowing smile.  “I like this one too.  Tony’s quite partial to gold and red, as you know.”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh.  “I noticed.”

“Then this one will be perfect for him,” Janet said, holding the collar out.

“It looks sharp,” Steve said, eyeing the thorns on the vines.  “I don’t want something that could hurt him.”

“It won’t hurt him at all,” Janet laughed, thrusting the collar into Steve’s hands.  He took it before it could drop and was surprised by how warm and supple it was; it felt as if it was made out of something living.

“I don’t know if I can afford this,” Steve said, running his fingers over the smooth metal bud.  “I’m not working yet – and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to find a new job.”

“It won’t cost you much,” Janet said quickly, noting Steve’s dismayed expression.  “I’ll still hold the primary debt – all you will need to do is pay me a small fee every month.  I don’t want Tony to suffer – believe me.”

“How much will it be per month?”  Steve asked.  He was fairly sure he could manage a small debt, but with the inherited mansion to take care of, and no job prospects, he wasn’t sure how long it could last.  Yes, he had enough for a few years if he scrimped and saved, but he had a feeling the mansion would be eating up quite a lot of his pocket money in the very near future.

“It’ll cost you five pennies a month,” Janet said.  “I’m more than happy to keep the payments low.”

Steve nearly dropped the collar in shock.

“And I’m not going to charge you any interest either,” she said with a soft smile.  “I told you – I want to keep Tony safe.”

“That’s very generous of you, Lady Van Dyne,” Steve said, feeling a little faint.  He held the collar gingerly in his hand despite the fact that it seemed like it could handle any damage thrown at it and prayed that he wouldn’t sway where he stood.

“Your first payment will be at the end of the month.  All subsequent payments will be on the thirtieth of every month,” Janet said, patting Steve’s hand.  “And don’t worry – the collar is included in the debt, so it won’t cost you anything extra.”  She laughed and patted the chair beside her.  “Oh dear,” she said, “sit down before you topple over.”

Steve sank down into the chair gratefully, the collar still clutched in his hand.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“Darling?” Janet sighed as Tony came stomping down the stairs.  He vanished a few seconds later, going back up for the rest of his things.  She watched until he was gone again before she started speaking again.  “You’re not going to be thanking me when this is over.  I have a feeling he’s going to be very angry at you for a _very_ a long time.  You should get used to silence, because he hates new places and he hates new people even more.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”  Steve asked dryly.

“He’s smart – don’t think he’s stupid just because he was a courtesan,” Janet said, drumming a dainty finger on her chin.  “He’s been studying Alchemy for years, but don’t mistake that for actual schooling.”

“Oh?”  Steve wondered what else Tony had learned in his life.  It seemed like he had been around a great many influential people.

“I’ve been buying him tools and books over the years, but we didn’t have the space for a real forge,” Janet admitted, sounding sad.  “I wanted to get him one, but well,” she sighed.  “You need someone with actual skill to put one in, and most of the men and women who know how to build and install one don’t want to give anything to a courtesan without or without the extensive permits they require and even my friends couldn’t wrangle something like that in this neighborhood.”

Steve scowled.  “That’s cruel of them.  A student is a student no matter where they come from.”

Janet nodded.  “I wholeheartedly agree.  I’ve been trying to get them to change their mind for years, but it doesn’t seem to matter how much money I throw at them – they refuse to drop by.  Being a Captain’s companion might change things for him.”

“Is that why you picked me?”  Steve asked, quirking an eyebrow.  He was beginning to think that his chance encounter with Janet in the street hadn’t been chance at all; there was no way someone could track him down so quickly, even if they were professionals.  He hadn’t left much in the way of a trail here, and unless they had some inside source in the army spilling the beans to them, there wasn’t any way they would know what kind of person he was.  He wondered briefly if she was playing him for a fool and then reconsidered the opinion when Janet sighed and looked at him, her gaze turning mournful.

“Steve,” she said, shaking her head.  “Take care of him, alright?  I didn’t want to have to send him away like this, but to tell you the truth, there isn’t much time left.  Do you remember the men I mentioned earlier?”

“Hammer and Stane?”

“Yes,” Janet said with a sigh.  “Their full names are Obadiah Stane and Justin Hammer.  They’re businessmen – wealthy men, who build weapons for the Queen’s army.  Howard Stark used to do the same, but after a while, he couldn’t compete.  There was too much happening, too many different types of weapons out on the field, and the Queen didn’t appreciate having to train her soldiers to use so many different things.  It was expensive, and after a while, quantity won over quality.  Stark Industries lost its contract to the Queen’s army, and Howard was forced to take on other projects to cover his costs.”

Steve had heard all about Stark Industries when he was growing up; they had produced most of the machinery in the city, until one day they had gone bankrupt.  His mother had loved their products.  They had never broken – at least not until the end of Stark’s dynasty.  After that everyone had been stuck buying their goods from Stane or Hammer, and while he had never heard much about those two, he knew from their workmanship that they didn’t care much for quality.

“Stane and Hammer are the reason Tony’s father fell from grace.  The three of them were friends once, or so Howard told me, but after Howard’s contracts started getting bigger, Stane and Hammer grew angrier with him.  I tried to help out, of course,” Janet said.  She glared down at her hands.  “He refused to take my offer unless I accepted collateral in the form of his son.  I don’t know what brought it on.  He was a strange man, and I never really got to know him outside of social functions.  He knew my parents, of course.  The Starks and the Van Dynes have run in the same circles for years.”  She smiled wistfully.  “Neither of them would approve of the business I run, of course, but at the time my money was good enough and Howard took it without a second thought.  I suppose he thought he was going to come climbing up the social ladder unscathed.  He was smart – brilliant, even – but he didn’t have the creativity.  He tried to create a flying automobile once – can you imagine?”

Steve chuckled.  He had seen the plans for the Stark Car in the newspaper when he was younger; he had kept a picture of it taped up on his wall as a boy.

“It would have been an amazing breakthrough if he had managed it,” Janet said.  “But the more in debt he got, the more he drank and well, you know how it goes.  One morning they found in his car having wrapped it around a post.”

Steve winced.

“Tony was fifteen at the time.  I don’t think he really understood what Howard’s death meant,” Janet said.  “I tried to keep him from hearing the rumors, but there was nothing I could do to keep him from picking up a paper.  He tried to get in contact with his mother.  Poor thing wanted to help her shoulder the burden, but by the time he managed to get her new address, she had already died.  He became a courtesan because he wanted to pay the debt off faster.”

Steve stared solemnly down at his feet.

“So you understand, then,” Janet said, straightening up, “that when I say I will have you killed and buried in a shallow grave, I mean business.  If you hurt my sweet Tony I will end you, Captain Rogers.”

Steve nodded.

“I’ve been looking for someone to take care of him, and you seem like the right man for the job, but Steve,” Janet said, smiling grimly.  “I’m glad Bucky had such kind friends.”

“I’ll do my best to keep Tony safe,” Steve said.

“Good,” Janet said.  She patted Steve’s knee again.  “Then you should know that he’s a handful.  He’ll drive you up the wall if you let him.”

“Noted,” Steve said with a smile.

“And before I forget,” Janet said, reaching into her pocket.  She pulled out an envelope; it was old and creased, the paper faded around the edges.  “His mother gave me this to give to him when he was ready.”  She toyed with the envelope.  “I’ve never been able to bring myself to give it to him.  There are things in here that he will need to see one day – but I warn you, they are not for the faint of heart.  Maria Stark was not the kind of lady who minced her words.  I don’t know what she wanted to say to Tony, and I don’t think he’ll ever tell me what the letter says, but don’t take it lightly.  Let him wait – let him grow used to you before you give it to him,”

It seemed like a strange request considering the letter had to have been at least twenty years old by now, but he agreed to it and took the letter from her before Tony could return from his packing.  He folded it up and put it in his inner pocket for safekeeping.  Once he got a lockbox of his own, he would keep it there to make sure no one wandered off with it.  “Is there anything else I should know?”  he asked, as Tony reappeared at the top of the stairs, grimly dragging his bags behind him.

“Stane and Hammer aren’t the kind of people you should play around with,” Janet said, glancing around.  “Between you and me, they’ve killed their fair share of business rivals although I can’t prove it - yet.  They’ll hurt Tony if they get their hands on him – with the collar on him, they’ll be too afraid to touch him, but be careful, alright?  I don’t want to read about you in the paper.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve said.  He smiled at Tony, but he knew even before Tony got close enough to touch that there wasn’t going to be a smile for him in return.

Tony stood stoically beside Steve’s chair, his bags stacked behind him in a neat pile.  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “Did you want to look everything over, Lady Van Dyne?”  He growled.

Janet sighed wearily.  “I trust you.”

“Sure,” Tony snorted.

“Steve’s picked out a lovely collar for you,” Janet said, gesturing to the collar in Steve’s hand.

“And I’m supposed to wear it?”  Tony said.  “Do you want to put it on me while I’m on my knees?  Or can I put it on myself?”

Steve stiffened.  He didn’t like the fact that he was going to have to put a collar on Tony either, but there wasn’t much he could do to avoid doing it.  If what Janet had said was true, Tony was going to need to keep the damn thing on at all times so no one could go after him.  He stood up and held the collar out to Tony, who glared at it like it was made out of sewage.

“Just put it on him,” Janet grumbled.  “It’s for his own good.”

Steve sighed. 

“Oh go ahead,” Tony said with a sneer, burying his hands in his pockets.  “It’s not like I’m not used to humiliation.  I’ve had clients who did worse.”

Steve’s stomach churned uneasily.  He lifted the collar up and delicately opened the lock at the front, pulling the sides wide open.  He slipped it around Tony’s throat, mindful of the edges and pulled it in place, sealing it shut.  Once the lock had clicked shut, the bud flowered on the collar, swallowing the lock up.  It was as if it had never even existed.

“It won’t come off until his debt is cleared,” Janet said, nodding to the collar.  “Don’t even try digging at it, Anthony.”

“I’m not that foolish,” Tony grumbled, rubbing at his throat.  He slid his fingers underneath the metal, inspecting the collar without look at it.  “It’s Alchemy – not some pathetic iron band.  I know it’s not going to just fall off on its own.”

“On its _own_ ,” Janet said, rolling her eyes.  “Good gods, I’m glad I’m not going to have to listen to that anymore.”

Tony swallowed thickly and looked away, turning to face his bags.

“You two had better get going,” Janet said, standing up.  “The Grand Executor’s office opens in fifteen minutes.  If you leave now, you’ll beat the line.”  She reached out and took Steve’s hand in her own, giving it a firm squeeze, handing him a coin, the one mentioned in Bucky’s will.  “If you _ever_ need anything, don’t hesitate to come find me.  I’ll help you out.”  She turned to Tony and pulled him backwards into a tight hug.  “Sweetheart, I know you hate me right now,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “But this is for the best.”

Tony didn’t speak.  He kept his gaze firmly on his luggage.    


	2. The misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve was never good at reading people he liked....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you spot anything, let me know and I'll fix it!

Their first trip together was to be to the Grand Executor’s office.  Steve hadn’t wanted to drag Tony along with him, because he knew that it was going to be a hassle to get into the office with luggage, but Tony refused to stay one more minute in the Wasp and Ant.  They trudged down the street with Steve carrying his duffle bag under one arm and three of Tony’s bags under the other; Tony was carrying five bags of his own, but as he assured Steve, those ones weren’t as heavy.

The rose collar glowed against Tony’s olive skin, attracting its fair share of looks and once people noticed it, they couldn’t seem to look away.  Steve was tempted to reach out and flip Tony’s coat’s collar up in order to cover it, but Tony stubbornly refused to look at him, and didn’t slow down enough for him to even attempt to speak to him about it.  Steve allowed himself to trail along behind Tony under the pretense that the bags were, indeed, actually heavy.  He wasn’t sure what was in them, and, granted, they were quite solid, but for him they weren’t much heavier than a bag of flour. 

The Grand Executor gave Steve a strange look when he walked up to the man’s desk; he accepted Steve’s papers – the copy of the will signed by Janet and witness and then again by a notary to prove their legality – and the coin and handed Steve, as promised, a lockbox containing the rest of Bucky’s valuables and the keys to the Barnes family mansion’s front door and all subsequent locks.  The keys felt heavy in Steve’s hand; he held them close as they exited the Grand Executor’s office and prayed that he wouldn’t lose them.

 

The mansion was a disaster; Steve had known it was a mess inside, but he hadn’t thought it would be this bad.  Sure, a lick of fresh paint and a few new floorboards would fix _most_ of the problems, but there were no beds – no furniture of any kind inside and no one had done any cleaning in quite a while.  There had to be at least three inches of dust on most of the shells and floor, and when they walked through the front door they left footprints in their wake.  The two ratty mattresses they found in the grand foyer smelled of mildew and must; they were scuffed up and dirty, having been dragged through the dust in the upstairs bedrooms.  They had been there for a long time, because the trail they should have left was already gone.  Steve set their bags down beside the mattresses and sighed aloud, looking around.  “Well,” he said, shaking his head, “At least we’ve got a roof over our heads.”

Tony sniffed disdainfully at the mattresses and left his bags beside the rest of his bags, stalking into what would have been a grand living room, had there been any furniture in it.  The fireplace off at the end of the room was dark with soot and filthy looking.  There was a poker left lying on the floor in front of it, discarded and forgotten when the rest of the place had been stripped of anything of value; Tony picked it up and looked it over before throwing it unceremoniously into the fireplace.  “ _This_ is where we’re living?”  Tony snorted.  “We’d be cleaner out in an alleyway.”

“It’s not so bad,” Steve said.  He was going to need to call in a few favors and fast, or else there would be nowhere for them to sleep before nightfall unless they wanted to nest on the mouldy mattresses.  They could go to a hotel of course, but it would be better to save what money they had.  He had never been big on extravagance, but he had a feeling that Tony didn’t quite feel the same way.

“If this isn’t so bad, I would hate to see what you think _is_ ,” Tony said.  He looked around the room, wincing at the grimy windowpanes.

“I’m going to have to clean a bit then,” Steve said, chuckling.  He eyed the mattresses.  They were mouldy, but the springs were probably still good.  A scrap dealer might take them, if he was willing to haul them off himself.

“A bit,” Tony snorted.  “If that’s what you want to call it.”  He disappeared into the hallway and came jogging back a few minutes later as Steve was hefting up one of the mattresses, his eyes gleaming with happiness.  “Keys,” he said, wiggling his fingers under Steve’s nose.

Perplexed, but not put off, Steve pulled his keys out and handed them off to Tony.  “What is it?  Did you find a locked door?”

“I found the _Forge_ ,” Tony said, fumbling one of the oldest looking keys off of the chain.  He stuffed the rest of the keys into Steve’s shirt pocket and dashed off, grinning from ear to ear.

Well, Steve thought with a chuckle, at least Tony wasn’t feeling as bad now.  Maybe they could make things work here.

Steve hauled the mattresses away and sold them to his old friend Sam; the man wasn’t too happy with the smell of them, but the wires inside were still sound and as an apprentice to an Alchemist, Sam was more than happy to have scraps to use in his studies.  Better wire was costly, and mistakes often ended up with apprentices being thrown out.  This way he could fool around and make mistakes as often as he liked.  Sam always had loved freedom. 

Sam’s hawk, Redwing, perched on Steve’s shoulder while Sam went to work cannibalizing the mattresses.  She was a fine bird, and through her Sam often learned of interesting bargains and deals to be had with the local venders.  Sam had never explained fully why it was he could communicate with Redwing, but Steve, unlike most of the men and women in the city, wasn’t at all afraid of the talent and had counted on it for his survival on more than one occasion.

“The bedmaker on Sixth Street is having a good sale this week,” Sam said, fighting with a stubborn bit of coiled wire.  “I’m assuming you’re going to need more than one.”

“That’s the plan,” Steve said.  “I don’t think Tony’s going to want to share mine.”

Sam nodded knowingly.  “He’s in your debt?”

“Unfortunately,” Steve said with a sigh.  “Yes.  I’m not sure what to do – he seemed to like living where he was, and the only time I’ve seen him smile since last night was when he found the Alchemic Forge in the basement.”

Sam’s eyes widened.  “You have a _Forge_?”

“ _Bucky_ had one,” Steve said, softly.

Sam’s excitement turned to despair.  “I’m sorry, Steve.  Countess Commander Danvers came by to wish me well a few days ago and told me about it.  It was quite the shock,” he said, shaking his head.  “Bucky might not have been the sweetest man, but he was a good friend and an even better soldier.  We were honored to know him.”

Steve glared down at his feet.  Everyone seemed to be telling him the same thing these days; it wasn’t his fault – Bucky could take care of himself – but it didn’t feel right to think that way.  He and Bucky had been friends for such a long time now, it was like losing a piece of his heart.

Redwing rubbed her beak against Steve’s ear, giving him a gentle nip.

“What else do you need?”  Sam asked, putting down his pliers.  “Usually when you make that face, you’ve got something big to deal with.  Do you need any help?”

“I need a job,” Steve said, rubbing his face.  “I won’t be able to keep anyone safe if I don’t have money coming in.”

“The Countess Commander said you were well off,” Sam said, cocking an eyebrow.  “I take it your new friend is a bit more expensive than expected?”

Steve chuckled.  “That’s one way of putting it.”

“What’s his name?”  Sam asked, knowingly.  “I’ve seen that look before.”   He pulled off his goggles and set them aside with the pliers, coming out from behind his workbench so that he could put a firm, steady, hand on Steve’s shoulder.  “I still owe you one, remember?  Maybe I can help.”

“His name is Anthony Stark,” Steve said, stroking Redwing’s wing again.  She bobbed her head at him and nipped his ear again, letting out a soft coo.

Sam whistled.  “ _Anthony Stark_ – good gods, Steve, you got yourself in it this time,”

Steve grimaced.  “So I noticed.”

“He’s the most expensive – well, he _was_ the most expensive courtesan at the Wasp and Ant,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I’m surprised Lady Van Dyne let him go.  He’s one of her best money-makers.”

“She didn’t mention that part,” Steve grumbled.  No wonder Tony’s debt was so great.

“So you took him to Barnes’ mansion and you came over here?”  Sam laughed.  “You’re a trusting guy, I’ll give you that.”

“Tony’s not going to burn the place down,” Steve said, shrugging Sam’s hand off of his shoulder.  “He seems well-adjusted.”

“For now,” Sam snorted.  “I’ve heard he’s a real handful when he’s not working.”

“Well, the only one getting a handful of him now is me,” Steve snapped.  He went bright red when he realized what he had just said and tried not to slink away when Sam started outright hooting with laughter.  “Forget I said that.”

“Oh, Captain,” Sam said, gasping for breath.  “You’re a nut and I love you, but how long have you known him?”

“A day – _ish_ ,” Steve said.  Redwing nipped him a bit harder; he rubbed at his ear.

“Lady Van Dyne gave you Tony Stark after less than a day of knowing him?”  He looked shocked.  He looked down at his worktable.  “Well, I guess I should give you some advice then.”

Steve groaned.

“One,” Sam said.  “You should probably get his spells updated if you plan on sleeping with him.”

“Spells?”  Steve said, cocking an eyebrow.  “What are those?”  Alchemists used runes to power things, but he had never heard of them referring to them as spells before. 

“They’re a way of keeping people safe from disease.  It’s not painful, but it can be expensive.  I can hook you up with a guy my Alchemist uses,” Sam said.  “I’ve had mine done already.”

“Your Alchemist uses spells to keep himself from getting diseases?”  Steve put his hand over his eyes.

“All of them do,” Sam said.  “It’s one of their things – like organizing a project.  They don’t like surprises.”

“How much does it cost?”  Steve asked.  Keeping people disease free sounded like a good idea.  Medical bills were costly, after all, and if he could get a spell to do the same thing the Doctors could, well, he was all for saving the money in the long run.

“It’s a gold for someone like Tony,” Sam said.  “For you, it’s probably a silver or two.  Depends on if he’s feeling generous.  His name is Doctor Strange.”

“Great,” Steve said, shaking his head.  He didn’t need anything to keep him from getting sick.  The serum had that covered.  “Where does he live?”

“He’s across town – takes a carriage to get to unless you’re planning on spending the whole day walking.  He lives up in a mansion in the hills – likes his privacy.  Oh, and you might want to make sure he’s in before you go visiting.  He’s out sometimes for two to three months at a time.  Your courtesan – sorry.  _Tony_ – will know when his spells are expiring.  He’ll probably ask about it.  None of them like catching things either, after all.”

“I see,” Steve said.  “I’ll talk with him about it and see what he wants to do.”

“Now for number two,” Sam said, patting his shoulder.  Redwing glided over to him, landing neatly on his shoulder beside his ear; she gave him a nip hello and settled down again, puffing up her feathers.  “I might be able to get you a job, but it’s going to be demeaning.”

“Define _demeaning_?”  Steve sighed.  He had done his fair share of latrine duty, and he couldn’t think of anything more demeaning than that.

“My Alchemist likes things kept clean and orderly,” Sam said.  “You’re a strong guy – he can always use a set of hands around here.  If he likes you enough, he might decide to keep you on permanently.  The only problem is that you’re going to have to start soon, because the workshop is getting a little filthy and I can only keep him occupied with sigils for so long.”

“Alright.  Do I need to bring anything?”  Steve asked.

“An apron is a good place to start.  He’ll provide the rest of the supplies because he needs to know what’s in everything that goes onto every surface of the building.  One wrong chemical and well,” Sam mimed an explosion.  “You know how it is.”

“Great,” Steve said.  At least he was used to danger.  A few explosions wouldn’t rattle him anymore, although he would have to be careful to make sure it stayed only a few.  

“Speaking of cleaning,” Steve said, turning to glance at his pocket watch.  It was far later than he had expected, but there was still plenty of time to hunt down the new mattresses and get some cleaning supplies before dark.  He would have to clean out one room in order to make the place safe enough to sleep; he didn’t know what Tony would say to the idea of getting down on his knees and scrubbing the floors.  On second thought, maybe Tony would have experience with that particular task.  “Do you know of anyone who sells cleaning supplies?” Steve said, willing away all mental imagery associated with Tony Stark on his hands and knees.

“That depends,” Sam said, yanking an errant bit of fluff from his shoulder.  “Do you plan on doing the cleaning yourself, or are you going to hire out?”

“I was thinking of doing it myself,” Steve said.

“Sounds like fun,” Sam said, pulling a handful of coppers out of his pocket.  He gave them to Steve and smirked.  “Don’t invite me to that party.”

Steve chuckled.

“There’s a good cleaning supply store down on Oblivant Street run by Natasha Romanoff.  They’ll set you up.  Mention my name and you’ll _probably_ get a discount.  She’s more about getting blood out of things than making silverware useable,” Sam said, returning to his pile of wires. 

“That name is familiar – isn’t she an assassin for the Queen?” Steve asked.  “How does she have time to run a business?”

“She might be,” Sam said with a shrug.  “I don’t know her that well, but I do know that she’s a stickler for the clock and she doesn’t let people in if they get there after she’s closed.”

“Thanks,” Steve said.  He put his money into his coin purse and gave Sam a wave goodbye before heading out the door.   The floors weren’t going to clean themselves, after all, and he had a feeling he was going to be doing the majority of the work himself.

“You’d better get back before your place burns down,” Sam advised.

“Why would it be burned down?” Steve asked, frowning.  He knew that it was a bit of a mess and on the older side but it wasn’t like buildings spontaneously combusted.

“You left Tony Stark alone with an Alchemic Forge – let me rephrase this so you get the full effect of just how bad things could be.  You left an untrained, dropout, alchemic engineer alone with an Alchemic Forge he isn’t trained to use.  Generally speaking, that doesn’t end so well for the person who owns the house the Forge is in,” Sam said, dryly.  “Head on home, Steve.  I’ll make sure Banner writes up a contract for you.  I don’t know how much he’ll be able to spare, but it’ll be steady work from what I can see.  There’s always something to do around here.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve said.  “I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me yet.  Wait till you meet Banner,” Sam said with a laugh.

 

 

Steve picked up cleaning supplies from Natasha Romanoff’s store after getting himself lost a handful of times.  She wasn’t there, but a lovely cat was guarding the till and a man named Clint Barton was keeping the place running – barely running, Clint had claimed, but to Steve everything looked just fine, albeit a little on the dusty side.  He paid for his purchases after promising to come back and shop there again when everything ran out and made it to the mattress seller in record time.  There he had purchased two mattresses, the basic models the store provided, and when he had informed them that he wouldn’t need them delivered because he could carry them himself, they gave him a discount.  The store had sheets and blankets on sale, and Steve purchased two of everything, even though he knew it would make for an awkward trip home.  He tucked what he couldn’t carry into his jacket and zipped it up and then wrapped the rest around the rope the store had given him so he could tie the mattresses in place.  The cleaning supplies hung from their cloth bag around his arm.  He would have to keep an eye on them to make sure they didn’t fall off as he walked home, but at least they would be manageable.

The crowd was even worse on the way back home.  With the two mattresses strapped to his back, however, people seemed to spring out of his way.  When he arrived home, he found the Fire Brigade standing around outside of his house, talking with a very singed and damp looking Tony who was wrapped in a blanket.  The two fire fighters who were closest to Tony, a man and a woman dressed in the same uniform, approached Steve with stern expressions on their faces, expressions he might have expected to see on a school teacher who had just spent the day dealing with naughty children.

“This is yours?” the woman asked.  She pulled her goggles up onto the top of her head so she could glare at Steve directly.  Her leather armor was light and covered in faintly glowing runes that kept it and her from being hurt by the flames.  Her hands settled on her hips.  “You’re Steve Rogers, yes?  The owner of this property?”

Steve set the mattresses down, untying them so he could stand without them strapped to his back.  “What’s going on?” he asked.  “Did something happen?”

“You owe the Fire Brigade five silvers for putting out your idiot debtors fire!” the woman said.

“He started a fire?” Steve asked.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  He had thought Sam was being overprotective, or at the very least pulling his leg, but apparently Tony was very capable of starting a fire when unattended.

Tony let out a huffed snort.  “Five silvers for a fire I mostly put out myself?  That’s a rip-off!”  His hair, once long and silky smooth had burned up, leaving it short and spikey.  What was left of it was curled around his ears and against his cheeks.  His once stately attire was more blackened than his hair, although at first glance Steve couldn’t tell if it was because it had been burnt or covered in wet ash.  The red silk of Tony’s shirt had burnt away in patches, revealing a round blue pendant hanging from his neck.

“You dare speak to me – a Fire Marshall – like that?” the woman hissed at Tony, her face practically pressed against his.

“Ok – ok,” Steve said quickly, putting himself in between the two.  He pulled out his purse and made a show of counting out the five silvers before handing them over to the Fire Marshall.  “Fire Marshall Hill,” he said, reading the carefully embroidered name tag on her suit, “I promise you that you won’t have to come out here again.  Thank you for your prompt and efficient service.”

Tony seethed and wrapped the blanket he had been give around his shoulders tighter, covering himself up.  “I’m keeping this,” he said.  “Five silvers – it was barely a fire!  She sprayed water all over the place and turned our perfectly cleanable dust into mud.  You should thank her for the puddles on the floor while you’re at it.”

Steve put a hand on Tony’s shoulder as the Fire Marshall and her companion glared at Tony.

“You had best keep your comments to yourself, Stark,” Fire Marshall Hill snapped. 

“Or what?” Tony said with a sneer.  “Fury will hear about it?  I haven’t seen him in years.  We both know he’s not going to magically appear just because you’re mad at me for pointing out just how horrible your service is.”

“Shut your mouth,” Fire Marshall Hill said.  “Or I will shut it for you.”  She turned to Steve letting out an exasperated sigh.  “Be careful with that Forge of yours, Mr. Rogers. It’s dangerous in untrained hands – especially when the person tinkering with it is a _Stark_.”  With that said, the Fire Marshall and her companion strode away, their heads held high, leaving puddles of mud in their wake on the cobblestones.

Steve sighed in despair.  He hoped there was somewhere inside he could put their new mattresses.  He didn’t want to have to scrub the floors all over again just so he could put them down.

Tony shuffled over to Steve’s side, flashing him a nervous smile.  “It’s fine – really.  She’s blowing it out of proportion.  It was just a teensy fire.  I had it completely contained before someone called it in.”

Steve hefted the mattresses up onto his back.  “Can you get the door please?”

Tony scowled.  “She’s had it in for me for years.  I started one fire by accident at the Wasp and Ant and she’s never let me forget it.”

“The door, please, Tony,” Steve said with a grunt.

Tony hurried over to the door and tugged it open.  “There,” he said going inside.  “See?  It’s fine.  I’ll show you.”

Steve kicked the door shut as Tony disappeared around the corner.  “Tony!” he called out in irritation.  He looked down at the floor and let out a groan.  The floor was streaked with muddy drag lines from the Fire Brigade’s hoses and there were foot prints.  There wasn’t an inch of the foyer that was filth free.  He glanced mournfully back at the front door, wishing he had the ability to lock it.

“Captain?” Tony said, reappearing from the hallway he had vanished down, “What’s taking you so long?”

“Can you lock the door, please,” Steve said with a growl.

Tony snorted.  “You need me to do that?  Big strapping man like you can’t lock a door?”

Steve grimaced and pushed past Tony into the living room.  He found the spot he had cleared of dust before leaving to get the mattresses as clean as he had left them and set everything down with a relieved groan, his arms aching.  The room now mysteriously smelled like burnt wood and melting metal.  He threw open the windows, wincing when they shrieked in protest.  He coughed as fresh air came billowing into the house, dragging with it a bloom of dust.

Tony leaned against the doorframe, watching Steve.  “Are you coming now?” he asked.

Steve gritted his teeth and pulled the sheets from inside his jacket, tossing them onto the mattress closest to him.  “I’m assuming the damage is in the room with the Alchemic Forge?”

“Yes, obviously,” Tony said.

“And the Alchemic Forge remains functional and the room mostly damage free?” Steve asked.

“Of course,” Tony said with a scoff.  “I’m not a heathen.  I wouldn’t have damaged something that beautiful.”

“Then I trust you,” Steve said.  “And I don’t need to see what you did.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Steve, unimpressed with the answer.  “So what do you what to do then?” he nodded to the mattresses.  “Planning to make use of those?” he waggled his eyebrows at Steve and let the blanket around his shoulders slip so it wasn’t so tightly hugging his body.

Steve put his face in his hands.

“Captain?” Tony’s voice faltered.  “What’s wrong?”

“We should eat dinner and get ready for bed,” Steve said.  He rubbed his face and gave his head a shake, hoping the pinkness in his cheeks wasn’t too apparent.  He found his duffle where he had left it and pulled a bag of pennies free.  He would have to take a quick trip to the store in the morning to fill their pantry, but for tonight they could get away with something from the pub nearby.  The bedding he had would do for now, and he had a ratty blanket from his days at the Front in his duffle to use if it got any colder during the night.  Three blankets would be enough.

“What exactly are you expecting us to eat at this hour?” Tony asked.

“There’s a pub nearby,” Steve said.  “They have meat pies and sandwiches.” He stuffed a handful of pennies into his pocket.

“I can’t eat those,” Tony said indignantly.  “I’ve got customers to think about!  I can’t just cram any old thing in my stomach!”

Steve stared blankly at Tony.  “Tony, you don’t have customers anymore.”

Tony’s defiant expression vanished.  “Oh,” he said, “It’s just - people don’t like it when I don’t look right.”

Steve put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.  I don’t care what you look like.”  Steve paused.  His face felt like it had burst into flames.  Damn it!  That wasn’t what he had meant to say.  “I mean, it’s not what you look like that matters.”

Tony frowned at Steve.  “You don’t care if I don’t look nice?”

“You look fine no matter what you’re wearing – or what you do,” Steve said, lamely.  He felt like he was pulling his foot from his mouth but couldn’t tell if he had made any sense because Tony was still frowning at him like he had said something horrible.

Tony reached up and fiddled with his hair; he attempted to twirl it around his finger and frowned when it wouldn’t.  He paled when he realized what had happened to it and ran out into the hallway to peer at himself in the large rectangular mirror hanging on the wall on the left-hand side of the foyer.

Steve hurried after him.  “Tony?”

Tony stared at himself in the filthy mirror, aghast.  “Oh gods.  Jan is going to kill me.  I can’t work like this – no one is going to buy someone who looks like they’ve crawled through a furnace,” he said, his tone suspiciously close to that of a wail.

Steve pursed his lips.  He doubted that Janet Van Dyne was going to care what Tony looked like provided he wasn’t suffering.  “It’s – you’re fine.  You don’t need to look perfect anymore.  You don’t work at the Wasp and Ant anymore, remember?” he said.

Tony stilled.  “What?”

“You don’t work at the Wasp and Ant anymore,” Steve repeated.

Tony’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re not going to let me work?”

“I’m not – that’s not – no,” Steve said, backing away.  He had faced men and women on the battlefield between muddy walls filled with blood and corpses and even that didn’t look at terrifying as the look in Tony’s eyes.  “I’m saying I’m not going to force you to work,” he said.  “You can do whatever you want now.”

“I was doing what I wanted,” Tony snapped.  “Why do you think I was there?  I was paying down my goddamned debt!”

“Don’t yell at me,” Steve said.  “I didn’t make the decision to take you out of there.  I _had_ to go there – I didn’t have a choice!”

Tony flinched as if he had been slapped.  “So all of that back at the Wasp and Ant – the foot rub, the smiling – the being nice – that was all for show?  You did that against your will?”

“No – no I wasn’t – I didn’t do that because I had to,” Steve said, putting his head in his hands again.  “I didn’t want to be there but that didn’t mean I wasn’t being myself.  I was still acting like I always do.”

“So what happened then?” Tony asked with a sneer.  “Someone put a gun to your head?”

“It was part of a contract I had to fulfil for my friend’s will.  This – this was his house,” Steve said, his words nearly a whisper.

Tony scowled.  “I see,” he said.

“Tony,” Steve mumbled, “I don’t know what to do.  I’ve never owned a house or much of anything before.  I’ve never been _alone_ before.”

“You’re not alone,” Tony said.  “I’m right here.”

“Well I’m sorry, alright?  My best friend died and left me alone with a stranger and his damned house and everything else he owned and I don’t know what to do.  Excuse me if I’m not completely sure how to talk to you – how to talk to anyone!”  He jammed his hands into his pocket and spun around, fumbling for his keys.  His face was bright red again and he hated that it felt so hot.  He threw the front door open and stormed off into the cold night air, shoulders hunched.

 

It was harder than usual keeping his tears in check.  Steve continued his walk down the street, distracted by the ache in his chest.  He nearly walked past the pub in his hurry to get as far away from Bucky’s house as he could.  He only stopped when the change in his pocket jangled against his keys; his stomach took its turn growling at him for attention.  Sighing to himself, he pulled the pub door open and stepped inside, his teeth gritted as he tried to keep himself under control.  This was the kind of distraction he needed.  There were things he needed to do, important things, and no matter how much it hurt inside they would have to be done.  He flagged the barman down, glad that the crowd was paying attention to their drinks rather than him, and placed an order.  He leaned against the bar as he waited for his food, drumming his fingers on the liquored countertop.  This was painfully familiar territory.  Bucky had loved pubs like this and they had come to this one in particular a handful of times over the years because it had been close to his grandfather’s home.  The food here wasn’t the best of the best but it had always been filling and affordable.  It would do for tonight; later he could cook for them, get them real groceries and he wouldn’t have to come back to places like this – places that made him feel like he was waiting for Bucky to come back from the bathroom.

The barman returned with the three pot pies Steve had purchased crammed into a paper box that was bursting at the seams.  He smiled at Steve, but didn’t seem to recognize him.  Steve was glad; he hadn’t wanted to answer any more questions tonight.

The house was quiet when Steve unlocked the front door.  He stepped around the puddle of mud in the doorway and closed the door with his hip, locking it before he could forget.  “Tony?” he called out tentatively.

The house remained silent.

Steve peered into the living room.  Perhaps Tony had already decided to go to sleep.  Maybe, the nasty little voice in the back of his head murmured, Tony had left and gone off to find someone better to live with – someone richer and less cruel and foolish.  He told the voice to shut up.

There was no Tony in the living room, just the hastily set down mattresses, bedding, the bag of cleaning supplies and Steve’s battered duffle.  Steve made his way into the kitchen moving slowly, trying to keep the dust plumes to a minimum as he shuffled through.  Despite his cleaning, the dust had returned with a vengeance, settling on damn near everything.  It seemed to be even thicker than before.  It made him wonder just how long he had been gone. 

Steve left the box of meat pies on the patch of kitchen counter that had remained mostly dust free and squinted in the darkened house.  Without candles – another thing he had neglected to purchase, he thought with a curse – there wasn’t much to do but wait till his eyes adjusted.  He sighed, weary all over again.  No one would believe he was a Captain in the Queen’s army now.  He had bungled so much of today.  They didn’t even have soap for the bathroom.  At least he had remembered to get toilet paper on their first trip out.    He nearly jumped out of his skin with the room was suddenly bathed in soft blue light.

Tony strode into the kitchen, the pendant that had been around his neck earlier in the evening held out before him.  The light grew in size the closer Tony got until it seemed like he was carrying around a blue grapefruit.  Tony glared at the box of pies on the counter and then turned his glare on Steve.  “I was sure I wasn’t going to see you again until morning – if at all,” he said icily.

Steve scowled.  “I keep my word, Tony.  I said I’d get us something to eat and I did.”

Tony untied the string holding the pie box together and yanked the box open.  He took one of the pies out and cursed when the crust landed on his chest.  He was wearing a cotton night shirt and a pair of brown pants, neither of them any way as fancy as the clothing he had worn earlier in the day.  “At least it’s edible,” he said through a mouthful of pie.

Steve picked up a pie of his own and carefully split it in half with his pocket knife.  “They’re better when they’re warm,” he said.  “They cooled off on the walk back.”  He sighed as he looked around the kitchen, nibbling at his pie.  They needed proper dishes, pots and pans if he was going to cook for them.  Damn it!  Yet another thing to the seemingly endless list of things he needed to live in a house on his own.  He hadn’t realized there were so many things to make a house a home.  How did people do this?

“I’m assuming we’re going to sleep downstairs tonight,” Tony said when he was finished eating.  He wiped the crumbs from his face.  He had tidied up his beard and hair and in the pale light of his pendant he looked angelic, like some lost creature pulled into their world through magic.

Steve shrugged and hoped that Tony couldn’t tell that he was staring at him.

“When are we going to leave for work?” Tony asked.

“We?” Steve cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not staying here alone all day with no food, no furniture and no lights,” Tony said with a growl.  “I’m going with you.  When are we leaving?  And where did you say you were working again?”

“We’re leaving early for Alchemist Banner’s workshop,” Steve said.  There was no sense in fighting with Tony about him coming along.  Tony was right.  There would be nothing to do unless he wanted to spend his day cleaning, and it was going to take a lot more than just a bag full of cleaning supplies to tackle the mess the Fire Brigade had left behind.

Tony’s face lit up.  “You’re working with Bruce Banner?  The Bruce Banner?  How did you manage that?"

“I have a friend who works with him,” Steve said.  “Sam Wilson got me the job, assuming of course it lasts longer than just tomorrow.”  He walked over to the steel refrigerator and opened it to check the alchemic runes inside; they were still holding despite not having been used in years, and the inside was refreshingly cold.  He put the cardboard box with the remaining pie inside and closed the door.  Their breakfast would be safe there till morning, although heating it up might be a challenge considering he hadn’t yet checked the runes on the stove.

“So when you say early,” Tony said, following Steve around the kitchen, “What do you mean? Ten in the morning? Eleven?”

Steve sighed.  Oh good.  Tony was a late riser.  “Try six or seven in the morning,” he said.  “Alchemic Workshops are always open by nine, but they need people to prep them so they can handle anything that comes in as an order.”

“Six in the morning?” Tony said, aghast.  “Really?”

“You don’t have to come with me,” Steve said, stepping in his footprints as he made his way into the living room with Tony at his heels.

“I’m capable of getting up in the morning,” Tony grumbled. 

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Steve said, settling on the mattress closest to the window.  He toed off his boots and set them neatly beside his bag, close enough to grab in case he needed to make a run for it.  Then, when he was sure the room was as secure as possible, allowing for the open windows, he pulled off his jacket and folded it up to make a pillow.

Tony sat down on the mattress across from Steve after sorting through the sheets and blankets Steve had brought home with him.  He tossed one of each to Steve and looked mournfully around the room, taking it all in.  “Why did your friend give you a place like this?” he asked.  “It’s not exactly a home.”

“It’s a start,” Steve said firmly.  He tucked the sheet around himself and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.

“You could have pushed the mattresses together,” Tony said, scowling again from under his bedding.  “It’s freezing in here!”

“I’ll fix that in the morning,” Steve said with a yawn.  “Go to bed.”

“I don’t know why Jan sold my debt to you,” Tony muttered, lying down.  “You’re an asshole.”

“Just be glad we have a roof over our heads,” Steve snapped.  He closed his eyes and begged his mind to let him dream of something other than the muddy, bloody, trenches.

 

 

Steve woke warm and wrapped in something decidedly not just his blanket.  He opened an eye, tensing for the worst and saw Tony’s singed hair just under his nose.  During the night, the cold must have become too much for the ex-courtesan to bear.  Tony was spread out on top of Steve, clinging to him, his face squished into Steve’s chest; he was partially buried under Steve’s blanket and had wrapped his own around himself like a caterpillar trying to build a cocoon.  He wasn’t sharing his blanket.  He was breathing heavily as though he was running a race in his sleep.

Tony opened his eyes with a yelp and burrowed closer to Steve, his body wracked by shivers. 

“Are you alright?” Steve asked.

“I’m fine,” Tony said.  “Is it time to get up yet?”

Steve pulled his pocket watch from his jacket and snapped it open.  There were a few more minutes left before they had to get moving.  They could stay in bed a while longer.  Really, he should have told Tony to go back to his bed, but the other man’s warmth was as alluring as his smile and he couldn’t bring himself to push Tony away.  He allowed himself to drift in and out of sleep, keeping an eye on the time.

Tony was the first one to get up.  He pulled away from Steve carefully, slipping his shoes on before standing and leaving the room.  He returned carrying his suitcases and set them down beside his mattress so he could go through his clothing.  He pulled stacks upon stacks of the finest clothing Steve had ever seen from inside and set them down beside him, humming softly to himself as he organized his things.  All of it was far too delicate to be worn to a place like an Alchemic Workshop.

Steve sat up and rubbed his eyes.  “Are you getting ready _already_?” he asked, slipping on his shoes.

Tony held up a shirt and frowned at it before putting it back down on the pile it had come from.  “I’m going to be meeting Bruce Banner,” he said.  “Of course I’m getting up already.  This place doesn’t have electricity yet and it’ll take me three times as long to get ready, especially with that miserable excuse for a bathroom.”

Steve chuckled.  “Well, alright then,” he said.  He didn’t particularly like the bathroom either.  It was going to need to be rebuilt, but that was another project for another time.

“When are we getting electricity?” Tony asked, still sorting through his shirts.

“Electricity?” Steve snorted.  “I’m pretty sure the only way we’ll be getting electricity is if it spontaneously starts building its own wires.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed.  “Great.  So not only will I have to live in this flea infested hellhole, but it will remain dank and dark forever.  Fantastic.”

Steve’s hands found their way to his hips.  “The house isn’t going to stay dank and dark – I’ll fix it up when I can but I’m not made out of money.  I’ll have to do things one piece at a time.”

“Great,” Tony drawled.  “So at some point in the distant future, we’ll have electricity.”

“Again,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “It’s highly unlikely that we will ever get electricity.”

“We’ll see,” Tony said with a hum.

Steve sighed and made his way into the kitchen.  He wasn’t going to take away Tony’s hope, not matter how outlandish that hope might be.  Electricity was for people far richer than he was.  It was for people who didn’t have debts hanging over their heads and houses to rebuild.  He took the potpie from the refrigerator and peeled open the cardboard, wrinkling his nose at it.  He put it on the counter and checked the stove to see if it was working.  It wasn’t.  Sighing to himself, he put it on the list of things to do.  He was fairly certain he was going to have to start writing things down, because there were becoming almost too many things to remember.

Tony sauntered into the kitchen, finally dressed.  He was wearing a tailored black waistcoat with a crisp white shirt beneath it and a pair of tailored black dress pants and black dress socks.  He had changed shoes from the ones he had been wearing before and was now in a neatly shined pair of black boots.  Blessedly, his neck was free of a tie.  He had even tamed his hair and beard, although where he had found the tools, Steve didn’t know.

Tony looked Steve over and clucked his tongue.  “I hope that’s not what you’re planning on wearing,” he said.

Steve stiffened.  “Excuse me?”

“You look like you’ve been living under a rock,” Tony said with a sniff.  “Is that how you want your employer to meet you?”

“I’m supposed to be carrying around equipment and cleaning,” Steve said thought clenched teeth.  “I’m not going to dress up to go scrub ash and _dirt_ off of things.”

“You _know_ for sure you have the job?” Tony asked, cocking an painstakingly plucked eyebrow. 

Steve frowned.  “Not exactly,” he admitted.   He had assumed that Sam’s word was as good as a yes.  Should he be worried about Banner not liking the look of him?  Would this be a one day job after all?

Tony shrugged.  “There’s not much else in that duffle of yours, so I suppose it’ll have to do.  Hopefully he’ll appreciate the under-a-rock look.”  He glanced over at the potpie.  “I was under the impression that we were going to be eating _breakfast_ , not dinner _masquerading_ as breakfast.”

“With a possible not-job after today?  I don’t think so.  We shouldn’t be eating out unless we absolutely have to,” Steve said.  He cut the potpie in half with his pocket knife and washed it off in the tap, glad that something worked.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t give me that look,” Steve said, putting his pocketknife away.  He held out half of the potpie.  “You’re the one in debt, not me.”

“You could have at least warmed it up,” Tony muttered.  He took the offered portion and ate it daintily, making sure none of the crumbs could land on his clothing this time, watching Steve the entire time.  It made Steve think of the mice he had seen growing up.  Would Tony run if he made a sudden sound like they always did?  He hoped not.  The last thing they needed was another person nervous as hell about every damn thing.  He could be nervous for both of them, thank-you-very-much.

 

They locked up and went to work once the crumbs were wiped from their faces.  Tony led the way despite not having a clue where he was going; Steve couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even if he did have to turn them around a few times to get Tony back in the right direction.  Sam had been right about Tony’s interest in Alchemy.  The man was practically running down the street.

The morning crowd was light.  It was foggy out and everyone was behind schedule, but no one was concerned about it.  When they arrived at Bruce Banner’s Alchemic Workshop, they found it shuttered and locked still.

Tony glared at the big black polished front door, shifting between pacing and staring at the windows looking for someone inside.  His excitement was palpable; he was grinning now, and while they were outside, it didn’t seem to be dampening his mood any.

Steve leaned against the wall beside the bottom of the stairs, watching Tony.  Even in the gloom, the man seemed to stand out.  He looked like he was dressed up for a ball, and had gotten lost.  It was strange to think that this was perhaps the first time Steve had seen a man so finely dressed outside in the street.  He had been back from the front for so long, and yet everyone he had met was dressed plainly, or at the very least wearing clothing that discretely hid their wealth.

Tony stared at the closed door, suddenly anxious.  “Are you _sure_ this is the right place?”

“I’m sure,” Steve said, trying not to laugh.  There was a metal plaque on the wall beside him that spelled out Banner’s name.  If this wasn’t his workshop, someone was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

“Then why isn’t he here?” Tony asked.

“They’re probably on their way in,” Steve said, soothingly.  He was concerned about Sam’s absence as much as Tony, but he knew that there were plenty of different reasons for his absence, most of which had nothing to do with something bad having happened.  In all likelihood, they had just shown up far earlier than necessary.  Bucky had always given him shit about doing that; Sam did the same.  Both had always been amused by his apparent need to get to a place before anyone else did, even if that meant he had to stand around outside for a good half hour to do so.  Hell, Sam was going to give him shit about standing around with Tony in the street, now that he thought about it. 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Tony asked ten minutes later.  He sat down on the bottom step beside Steve after making sure it was clean and then leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his open palm.

Steve chuckled.  It should have been annoying the hell out of him having to answer the same question so many times, but for some reason he couldn’t get angry; Tony’s expression was so dejected, so pouted, that it seemed like he was disappointed with the world. 

“Again,” Steve said, “For the fifth time, yes we are in the right place.”  He shifted in place, ignoring his complaining legs as they reminded him that he should probably sit down on the step beside Tony.  “You’re really looking forward to see Banner, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” Tony said.  “He’s one of the top minds in Alchemy – he’s been on so many different projects it would be stupid to not want to meet him.  He’s one of the city’s best – the worlds best, even.”

“Hopefully he’ll get here soon then,” Steve said.  He glanced over at the crowd and grinned when he saw Sam making his way through the crowd of people waiting around for the morning paper across the street.  He waved at Sam and received a wave in return.  “Morning!” he called out.

Sam cocked an eyebrow when he spotted Tony but didn’t say anything other than a tired ‘hello’ of his own.  He took the stairs one at a time, dragging his feet and unlocked the door with Tony, surprisingly, not at his heels.  “Welcome to the Workshop,” he said, leading them inside.

Banner’s Alchemic Workshop was just as massive as Steve remembered.  He had only seen a portion of it in his last visit, just the scrap alcove down off the servant’s entrance, and it was all the more impressive getting to look at things from the front door this time.  The main room, after passing through a gated off doorway, was crowned by an Alchemic Forge at the back, one that was far more impressive and massive than the one in their basement.  The space around the Forge was filled with work tables, all of them arranged to be perfectly spaced so they wouldn’t touch.  Each table had its own project and equipment; beside it all was a stack of papers, presumably notes about the experiments.  Nothing looked dusty or ignored.  All of the projects seemed to have attracted the same amount of attention from their creator.

Tony took one look at the room and his cool and calm demeanor vanished.  He ran to the first table and peered down at the display of flasks and copper tubing.  Something Steve couldn’t decipher was inscribed on the sides of each of them, and it was apparently so exciting that Tony nearly knocked over the inkwell sitting beside them waiting for new notes to be taken.

Sam cringed.  “I really wish he wouldn’t do that,” he said.

“He won’t break anything,” Steve promised, hoping he was right.  Tony was moving between workstations so quickly now that he was done with the first that he seemed part humming bird; he shuffled through papers but didn’t move any of the equipment around unless it was in his way.  Despite the snooping he was very careful about making sure he wasn’t making a mess.

Sam sighed.  “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in him looking around.”  He pulled Steve over to a metal box by the door that led to the servant’s entrance and pointed him at it.  There was plenty of scrap wire and metal to break down inside, and there was even some equipment that looked like it had been scavenged from a junkyard.  “Let’s get started with your training,” Sam said, “I like the choice of clothes – very practical.  The work you’re going to be do is guaranteed to make you streaked with grease and muck by the time you’re done.  Hopefully you won’t be covered in a billion more awful things than that, but it really depends on Banner’s mood and where his flirtations of the day go.  Believe me, you were lucky you weren’t here for manure day.  Gods, I never thought that smell would leave.” 

Steve nodded along with Sam’s every word, relieved that he had been right about what to wear.

“Banner has authorized me to give you a Sorrel a week,” Sam said.

Steve’s throat went dry.  “A – A gold Sorrel a _week_?”

Tony looked up from the stack of neatly arranged crystals he had been fondling.  “You’re going to pay him a Sorrel a week to move a bunch of crap around?  I didn’t even make that per customer!”

Sam rolled his eyes.  “The work is a little different,” he said.  “After all, it’s a bit more hazardous.  No one blows up on you where you work, I’m assuming.”

“Well,” Tony said with a hum.

Steve’s ears went beet red.

Sam let out a startled laugh.  “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”  He shook his head.  “Alright – enough fooling around.  I’ve got gloves and a shielded apron for you to wear over your clothes.  Some of the things you’ll be handling can be extremely lethal, so consider the Sorrel hazard pay.  You could very well end up dead if you’re not careful.”

Steve grimaced.  He had thought that things would mostly be peaceful and tame in town.  Clearly he had been wrong.

“Banner is working on a project for the Queen’s Science division,” Sam said.  “His work is highly classified and we aim to keep it that way.  You could be attacked for being here.”

Steve stiffened. Attacked?  That was the last thing he wanted to deal with?  Things blowing up was irritating enough but now he would have to worry about men and women attacking him too?  Was a gold sorrel a week worth that?

“Don’t worry,” Sam said.  “It’s highly unlikely that someone will do anything to you.  I’m only giving you the spiel because we’re in the middle of a war and it’s kind of expected everywhere that some spy might be interested in the Queen’s business.”

Steve relaxed.  That made sense.  Once the war was over, things would likely die down and he wouldn’t have to worry so much about being attacked.

“It’s not that big of a secret.  Banner’s trying to recreate Erskine’s super soldier serum,” Tony said, not looking up from the papers he was perusing. 

Sam whirled around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.  “How did you find out about that?”

“It was a rumor when I found out about it,” Tony said, flashing Sam a cheeky smile.  “But you’ve now confirmed it, so I guess it’s true.”

Sam put his face in his hands.

“Relax,” Tony said, moving over to the next work station.  “Erskine was on a team when he created the first serum.  My father happened to be on that team – it’s not like anyone else knows the truth.”

Steve frowned.  He hadn’t realized that Tony knew so much about the super soldier project.  He had never said anything about it before, which was a surprise considering he likely knew who the serum had been used on.  The serum, of course, had been lost with Erskine’s death, but Howard Stark would have had his own separate stash of notes.  Did Tony know he was the one Erskine had used the serum on?  Did he know about Project Rebirth?  It had been years ago – and out of the people who had been there only Peggy now still lived knowing the full truth.  Did anyone else other than Sam and Banner know the details of the experiment?  Men had killed Erskine years ago after the serum had proved a success.  Were they in danger now?  Had he unknowingly put Tony in harm’s way?  He had chased Erskine’s killer down and stopped him, but it had been a pointless chase.  Hydra had sent the man, and he had killed himself before anyone could get any information out of him.  They had never found out if the man had come from the Queen’s city or Hydra’s.

Sam eyed Steve, curious by his silence.  “Are you alright?”

Tony looked up from the stack of papers.  “He’s practically indestructible with that serum coursing through his veins,” he said.  “Why _wouldn’t_ he be alright?”

Steve sighed.  Well, that answered that question.  “Where are the gloves?” he asked.  It was better not to think about the ‘what if’s’, at least for now.  If he started thinking about attackers breaking in, he would never stop and then nothing would be done.  There was work to be done and he was being paid a whole damned gold sorrel to do it.  He had better start and do a damn fine job.

 

Steve worked ceaselessly, channeling all of the rage and frustration that had built up inside of him since Bucky’s disappearance; since his death, even.  He added to the rage the despair he had bottled up when he had been dismissed from the Queen’s army, after years of dutiful service, and mixed it with the weariness he had found in his life when there was nothing to do but live.  He didn’t realize he was bending pieces of scrap metal with his hands until Sam bumped him in the shoulder.

“I think you’re scaring Tony,” Sam muttered.  He had his welding goggles up on the top of his head and was scribbling notes in a black notebook he had pulled from his apron pocket.

Steve put the chunk of warped metal down and glanced over his shoulder.  Tony was staring at him from one of the worktables at the back, his mouth agape.

“If he didn’t know the serum gave you super strength, he damn well does now,” Sam chuckled. 

“It’s not like I lied,” Steve said, glaring down at the now u shaped piece of metal.  “How am I supposed to talk to him about something like this?  It’s not like I can just shake hands and tell people I’m the Queen’s Captain.  No one knows about that and I’m retired, remember?”

“Retired doesn’t mean _dead_ ,” Sam said.  “You’re still that man – you’re still the same soldier.  You’re home now, Steve.  You can share your life now, if you want to.  You’re no longer obligated to dance solely to the Queen’s tune.”

“Sam,” Steve said.  “Don’t.”

“Sorry,” Sam said with a shrug.  “But you know I’m right.  Talk to him if he wants to talk – it’ll do you some good.”

“What else do you want me to move around,” Steve said, flatly.  He was going to end up bending more scrap metal if they kept talking about his life. 

“We’ve got a shipment of stones for enchantment that’ll be in around two in the afternoon,” Sam said with a scowl.

“Stones?” Steve hadn’t realize that Alchemists of Bruce Banner’s stature did work on simple things like building supplies.  Normally the Alchemists devoted to that sort of task were lower on the rung and focused on selling enchantment runes in the marketplace that popped up every weekend in the city square.  Those kinds of enchantments were normally dirt cheap and not worth the time to Alchemists with a workshop.

“We’re helping with the war effort,” Sam said.  “Banner and I committed to making foundations.”  He scribbled more notes in his notebook, flipping a page when he ran out of room.  “These ones are going to become the future train station – the civilian one, not the army one.”

“They’re building a new train station already?” Steve croaked.  The Queen had vowed not to focus on rebuilding the station between Hydra and the city until the war was over.  Did that mean it was _really_ over?  He braced himself against the wall beside him.  The world felt like it was spinning – the air getting thicker, unbreathable almost –

Sam’s voice pulled Steve back.  “Really, it’s not for anything that’s going up soon.  We’re preparing for the future – and emergencies, like if the army train station gets hit again and they need a quick replacement.  The Queen has Banner on so many damn projects these days, and this one is on the bottom of the list.  But it needs to be done, and he knows I can handle it while he works on the big things.  That’s where our funding is coming, after all.”

“Is the Queen that worried about damage?” Tony called out from across the room.  How he had heard Sam over the sound of bubbling liquid beside him was beyond Steve.  “It seems to me like he’s on to something here.”

“Oh he is,” a man said from behind Tony.

Tony nearly toppled over in his chair.  He was upright and grinning widely at the newcomer the instant he was capable of standing again.  “Bruce Banner, I presume?”

Banner smiled back at Tony.  “That’s me.”  He was a little taller than Tony, but not nearly as broad in the shoulder.  He reminded Steve of himself before the serum; the man looked like he could be blown away by a sneeze.  Banner was dressed in thick brown pants.  His glasses were silver-framed and his hair was a mess of sweaty curls.  He held his hand out to Tony.  “You’re the new help?” he asked.

“Uh, no,” Steve said, giving Banner a wave.  “That’s me.”

“I see,” Banner said.  “So you’re the Steve Rogers I’ve heard so much about.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said.  He barely contained his urge to salute and instead jerked in place, his hand twitching at his side.

“So who’s hand am I shaking?” Banner asked with a nervous laugh.

“Tony – Stark.  Tony Stark,” Tony said, hurriedly.  “I mean I’m a Tony – I’m a fan of yours.”  He grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

“You’re Tony Stark?” Banner’s eyes widened.  “I’m a Banner – I mean, I’m Bruce.  Banner – I’m Bruce Banner.  I’m a fan of yours too!”

Tony and Banner continued to grin at each other, still vigorously shaking hands.

Sam leaned closer to Steve.  “They went to the same Alchemic University,” he said.  “Different classes, of course.  Tony didn’t make it through the first year of classes, although I’m guessing you knew that.”

“I knew he couldn’t complete it because of his father,” Steve murmured.

“He wasn’t there long but he left quite the impression on the Alchemists who did stay,” Sam said. 

Steve watched Tony and Banner talk, feeling completely lost.  He couldn’t understand a fourth of what they were saying, but it was wonderful to see Tony so happy, so completely at ease.  He wondered if this was what Tony had been like as a boy, back before his father’s debt had taken everything away from him.  He smiled to himself, making up his mind.  He was going to let Tony focus on Alchemy as much as he wanted.  He didn’t mind being the sole breadwinner if it meant Tony got to finally study something he loved so much.

“We’re going to go exchange notes,” Banner said, turning to Sam and Steve.  “It was nice to meet you Captain.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Steve said, watching Banner and Tony walk away practically arm in arm.

Sam chuckled and patted Steve on the shoulder.  “I’m thinking you’re going to have your ear talked off when he gets home.”

Steve smiled.  He sure hoped so.

 

 

Steve checked his pocket watch for the tenth time.  He had finished the last of the day’s work for an hour already, but Tony had yet to reappear from Banner’s private office.  Sam had already departed for the day, having wished Steve a good night.  The lights in the workshop were already dimmed and ready to be turned off for the night, and all the work that needed to be turned down was dormant.  Steve patted his pocket to make sure the keys he had been given by Sam were where he had left them.  Should he stay?  Would Tony and Banner be much longer?  He didn’t’ want to disturb them, not when they had been enjoying themselves so much, but he still had things to do while the shops were still open and if he didn’t leave now he wouldn’t be able to get anything done till the morning.

After ten more minutes, he borrowed a piece of scrap paper from Sam’s note pile, one Sam had told him he could  use if he needed to, and scribbled out a note for Tony telling him that he had gone shopping and be at home.  He left the note on a chair, making sure it was pointed towards the door where Tony and Banner had gone.  He had a kitchen to stock and if he was lucky, he would find some good dishes and pots on sale.

 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest.  He had stocked the kitchen with groceries and cooking ware, bought alchemic runes to replace the ones in the stove and cooked dinner, and in that time Tony hadn’t returned home.  It was dark out now.  A part of him that oh-so-rude part that liked teasing him with horrible possibilities kept whispering in his ear that Tony had left and wasn’t going to come back.  He shook his head and ignored the words.  Tony was a grown man and he could do as he pleased.  He didn’t need a babysitter and he certainly wasn’t incapable of coming home on his own.

Steve ate alone.  He washed his dishes and then scrubbed the kitchen again from top to bottom.  He scrubbed his work clothes out in the laundry room with newly purchased soap and hung them up to dry.  Three hours later, tired but not aching thanks to the serum in his veins, he went to bed.  He woke with a snort sometime in the night as Tony crawled into bed with him.  Tony was still dressed in the clothes he had worn that day, although he had shucked his jacket and shoes.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, groggy.

Tony wrestled the blankets away from Steve and arranged them so that they would cover them both.  “I’ll tell you in the morning,” he murmured, before promptly falling asleep with his head on Steve’s chest.

Steve sighed, adjusted the blankets and went back to sleep, glad that Tony was home.

 

Tony talked excitedly about Banner through breakfast.  He cleaned himself up in between bites of bread and soup and then followed Steve to work, still talking about all the amazing things he had learned from Banner.

Steve couldn’t stop smiling while he listened.  Tony had come home late, but he had come home and that was what mattered. 

When they arrived at work, Tony grinned at Steve and hurried off to Banner’s private office.  He was gone for the rest of the day but emerged just before Steve was getting ready to leave for the night with a leather satchel filled with tools slung over his shoulder and a box of books in his arms, all of it having been lent to him by Banner.

They bought more bedding before returning home that night and while they ate dinner Tony read from the books he had borrowed, mumbling to himself; he occasionally surfaced to eat and take sips of the coffee Steve brought him, smiling up at Steve whenever he did.

Steve didn’t mind the mumbling – or the silence while Tony read.  Ever since Bucky had vanished into the snow he had been lonely and this – having Tony around – felt right.  Sure, he was doing all of the chores, but it was a job he was glad to do and it kept his mind from straying to darker thoughts.  He could do this forever if he didn’t have to think about gunpowder, blood and war again.

Weeks passed.

Steve sent payment for Tony’s debt to Jan and continued to repair the house, taking it one room at a time.  Bucky’s grandfather, while not having kept the place up, had owned a home of incredibly strong bones.  There was no rot to carve out, only rooms to clean and repair.  Occasionally he had to replace a broken floorboard or window, but there was really very little to deal with aside from the plumbing, and a Sam was more than happy to help him repair anything he couldn’t.

By the time three months had passed, the Barnes’ house was liveable in more than just a basic way. 

Tony looked around his new bedroom, whistling lowly.  “It took a while but it’s beautiful,” he said.  He cleared his throat.  “You’re very good with your hands, Captain.”

Steve shuffled about in the doorway.  He had saved their bedrooms for last on purpose; having Tony close by, either on the mattress with him or across from him had been a blessing.  He hadn’t wanted to complete their bedrooms but he hadn’t been able to stall any longer.  The walls were all freshly painted and the floors finished with a new chestnut stain.  Steve had used the same colour that had originally adorned the floors, but the walls were a lovely cherry red like Tony favored, the trim a burnt gold.  He had found a box of pictures in a closet while cleaning and had matched everything he could to the pictures inside.

Tony smiled broadly at Steve.  “It’s perfect,” he said.  He grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him into the room, moving towards the bed.  “How can I ever thank you?”

Steve swallowed hard.  “Sorry?”

“How can I thank you?” Tony repeated, leaning closer.  He was beautiful, right down to the smear of grease on his cheek under his left eye.

“You don’t – you don’t have to thank me,” Steve said, quickly, tugging his hand back.  He rubbed at the back of his neck.  He wanted to kiss Tony more than anything, more than he had wanted to kiss Bucky back in the day, but it wouldn’t be fair to Tony, not when he was responsible for Tony’s debt, and essentially his life.

Tony frowned.  “Something wrong, soldier?” he asked.

“Oh, no – nothing’s wrong,” Steve said.  “I was just looking forward to seeing your workshop now that you’ve been using it.”

Tony’s frown vanished and was replace by a toothy grin.  He grabbed Steve’s hand again and tugged him out the door.  “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”  He guided Steve through the house, his smile growing larger the closer they got to his workshop. 

The Alchemic Forge was located in their basement, and had been built like a bunker to keep disasters to a minimum.  It had been a long time since Steve had ventured down here, and the last time he had been in was to help Tony shift the tables around so he could set up his research stations.

Tony pulled open the workshop’s doors, moving easily.  Steve admired him from behind.  Tony had filled out in the months they had been living together.  He was no longer slender and lean; he had built muscle from the hours spent working metal, and had outgrown a lot of his carefully tailored clothes in the process.  His beard was a wilder than before, his hair the same.  There was still a patch of hair beside his ear that wasn’t quite the same length as everything else.

Tony caught Steve staring and froze, his hand still on the door handle.  He looked down at himself, at the clothing he was wearing – all of it borrowed from Steve’s closet – and let out a long, suffering sigh.  “I’m not attractive anymore,” he said, flatly.

“What?” Steve sputtered, his eyes wide.  “What do you mean?”

“You must have noticed,” Tony said, miserably.

“Noticed what?” Steve asked.  He squinted at Tony, and couldn’t find a thing he didn’t like.  Tony looked handsome as ever, elegant and soft as he always had.  Yes, he was shaped a little differently from when they had first met, but that didn’t change anything for Steve. 

“I’ve been stealing your clothes,” Tony said, looking down at the floor.   “I uh, I don’t fit mine properly anymore.”

Steve stared blankly at Tony.  “Oh,” he said.  He scratched at his ear.  “You could have said something if you wanted new clothes.  We can afford new clothes.”

“Steve,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Wanting new clothes wasn’t the point.”

 Steve stepped closer, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “You’re not unattractive.  You’re just as handsome as ever.”

Tony looked up.  “Really?”

“Really,” Steve said.  “And you can borrow my things whenever you like – you know that.  Don’t worry about it.”

Tony sighed and leaned forwards, bumping his chest against Steve’s.  He rested his forehead against Steve’s shoulder and tangled his fingers in the back of Steve’s shirt.  “I’m sorry.  I know I’m not pulling my weight around here.”

“You’re studying,” Steve murmured.  He raised his arm, unsure of what to do with it and gave Tony a gentle pat on the back, nervous.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want Tony this close – he did – but he didn’t want to be presumptuous, to take advantage of the situation.  Dear gods, Tony smelled so good.

“I’m making progress,” Tony said.  “and yes, I’m studying.  I guess I just wish I could do more to pay for things around here.”

“You could help clean while I’m at work if you want,” Steve said.  “That would be a help.”

Tony groaned.  “I knew you were going to say that.”

Steve chuckled.  “I know. It’s not the most glamorous job in the world.  I hate it too.”

“I can do that,” Tony said, slowly pulling away.  “Or I could make something we could sell.”  He took Steve by the hand again and tugged him into the workshop.  “I’ve got a lot of ideas we could use.”  He led Steve over to the Alchemic Forge at the back of the room.  The tables they passed were scorched in new places and a little worse for wear, but everything was neat and tidy here.  He had cleaned up whatever experiment had burst into flames last and everything leftover was in the waste bin by the Forge, ready for disposal.

Tony picked up a stack of drawings from the table beside the Forge.  He had done them all in pencil, painstakingly etching out every last detail; it was a suit of armor, but not like the ones Steve had seen in the Queen’s museum as a boy.  It looked stronger.  It was clearly made pieces, but they all seemed to function together like a living thing.  The work was so intricate, so delicate it seemed almost impossible, but he knew that if Tony made up his mind to do something, he would do it no matter how long it took. 

Tony tapped the paper.  “I’m not sure what to call it yet,” he admitted.  “But I’m going to start on one of the gauntlets tomorrow and see where that takes me.  I’ve made a power source already – Bruce gave me the tools so I could start.  I’m calling it an Arc Reactor.”  He picked up a round device made of some kind of silver and blue stone and held it out to Steve.  It glowed brighter than his pendant had and seemed twice as warm.  He put the device in Steve’s hand.  “It’s powerful enough to get so many different things moving – I’ve been dreaming up so many thing to do with it.”

Steve peered down at the Arc Reactor in awe.  Everything contained within the device seemed to be some kind of clockwork, but he had never seen parts so perfectly sealed within any device.  There were no seams on it, no welding marks, and the runes inscribed inside were tiny, almost impossible to read.  It was a work of brilliance.

“Do you like it?” Tony asked.

“It’s amazing!” Steve said.  ‘You did all of this in three months?”

“Oh, no,” Tony said, plucking the Arc Reactor from Steve’s hand.  He looked wistfully down at it.  “I made this one last week.  I’ve been using my father’s plans and improving on them.  The one my father made was too big to be of any use and it didn’t put out nearly enough energy – that and it exploded half the time it was in use.”  He shrugged.  “I miniaturized it and made it better than it ever was.”

“Did Howard leave blueprints?” Steve asked, curious. 

“Of course,” Tony said.  “He burned them before he sold me to Jan.  I have an eidetic memory so I have them all up here in my head.  I redrafted them and made my improvements before testing them out and building a new one.”  Tony prodded the arc reactor with his finger, making it do a slow circle in his palm.  “It was my father’s most dangerous invention,” he said.  “Or so everyone says.”

“I see,” Steve said, his mind whirring.  If this was something Howard had created, someone had to know that it existed, plans or no plans.  Did that mean Tony would be in danger if he brought this invention out into the public?

“It’ll be a battery,” Tony said.  “Far more useful than what my father had intended for it.  I’ll use it to power my suit.”  He beamed down at the Arc Reactor.  “It’s going to revolutionize the world, Steve.  One day, at least.”

“That’s impressive,” Steve said, smiling softly at Tony.

“The suit is going to fly,” Tony said with a laugh.  “Imagine that – I’ll be able to fly like a bird!”

Steve wasn’t sure what to say to that.  He had barely wrapped his head around some of the things he had seen in Banner’s lab and flying wasn’t something he had imagined would ever be possible.  Flying would change everything – it would tear the world apart if someone found out about it.  Everyone would want to be able to do it.  What if Hydra or someone equally horrible got a hold of it?  It could change the war – for the better or worse.

“I’ll be able to resurrect my father’s company,” Tony said.  “It’s going to be a rough road, but once I’ve paid back my debt it should be smooth sailing.  We’ll be richer than my father ever was – than anyone.  No one is going to blacklist me again.”

Steve’s stomach twisted.  If Tony resurrected Stark Industries, Howard Stark’s enemies would know exactly who to go after.  Those who hadn’t been paid back would come out of the woodwork and those who had would make claims on everything Tony so much as glanced at.

“Steve?” Tony hesitated.  “Are you alright?  You’re looking a little pale, darling.”

Steve forced a smile to cover the fear coursing through him.  How was he supposed to keep Tony safe from so many different potential threats?  He was one man, and he didn’t have any weapons here in the city.  They had taken his guns when they had sent him home, and while he could beat the shit out of damn near anyone, he wasn’t a god.  He couldn’t shield Tony with anything except for his body.

“Steve?” Tony said, sounding worried.

Steve swallowed down a mouthful of bile.  Attacks wouldn’t start immediately of course; most of the parties seeking compensation would be all talk, but if they didn’t get what they wanted they would quickly change tactics to get what they wanted.  One day they would be reading a rude comment in the paper and the next – bam.  Tony would be dead.  There would be nothing he could do to stop it.  It would be like losing Bucky all over again.

“Steve?” Tony put a hand on Steve’s.  “Are you ok in there?”

“I’m fine,” Steve managed to get out.  “I’m just thinking about what it’ll be like, that’s all.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow.  “Is this a problem?” His hand dropped from Steve’s.  He drummed his fingers on his hip, and watched Steve with a frown, staring him down.

Steve shook his head.  “It’s not a problem for me,” Steve said, quickly, holding up his hands.

“But you’re foreseeing this as a problem,” Tony said.  “What is it?  Don’t you want me to pay the damn debt off?”

“I do,” Steve said.  “It’s not that.”

“So what are you saying?” Tony said.  “Do you not think I can do this?  Is that it?  You think I won’t be able to handle the pressure?  Is that it?”

“No!” Steve said, taking a step back, horrified.  “That’s not – I’m not thinking that at all!”

“You’re embarrassed then,” Tony said, his eyes narrowing.  “You’re the guy with the ex-courtesan – the guy whose ex-courtesan is going to get them both out of debt.”

“Tony,” Steve said, taking a step back as if he had been kicked.  “I’m not _embarrassed_.”

“Get out of my workshop,” Tony said, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest.

“But I’m not – Tony,” Steve said, aghast.  Oh gods, he had put his foot in his mouth and he hadn’t even realized he had done it.  How was that possible?  He hadn’t said a thing!  He moved backwards one step at a time, nearly tripping despite the way the serum had given him perfect balance and control of his body.  The door was promptly shut in his face.

Steve’s shoulder slumped.  How the hell had all this happened?  Damn it – how was he supposed to apologize for this mess?  He knocked tentatively on the door.  “Tony?  Please, can I come in and talk?”

“Go away, Steve,” Tony yelled through the door.  He locked the door with a click.

Steve stared forlornly down at the door handle.  He could force the door open.  He had the strength to rip the door clean off its hinges without any trouble, after all, but he knew better than to use his strength that way.  He wasn’t going to intimidate Tony into talking to him.  That wouldn’t be right.  He was as useless now as he had been before the serum.  He couldn’t even apologize properly.  He straightened up.  No.  He knew how to apologize.  He would just have to keep doing it – and if Tony didn’t accept that, then he would respect his wishes and back off.  He would let Tony keep the house.  The workshop was where Tony was happiest, and it wouldn’t be fair to deprive him of it.

There was one thing he could do to make it up to Tony immediately.  Tony had said he needed new clothes, and if Tony needed them he could get him more.  He could do that.  It wouldn’t be nearly enough, but it was a start.  He went upstairs and retrieved his coat from the closet.  He opened the front door and stepped outside, determined to fix things.  It was funny.  They hadn’t had a fight since the first day he had brought Tony home, and the first time they did it had been so explosive, Tony had locked him out of his workshop.  He hoped that this hadn’t been building for a long time – that he hadn’t been blind to it.  He hoped this was fixable.

 

Steve woke as clothing cascaded down into his face.  Tony was standing at the end of the bed, glaring at him, looking angrier more hurt than he had when they had been fighting the night before.

“Here – you wanted your clothes back, right?”  Tony snapped.

Steve stared blearily up at Tony.  “What?” he croaked.

Tony stormed out of the room, slamming Steve’s door behind him.

Steve struggled with his blankets and sheets; clothing rained down onto the floor as he staggered to the door, hurrying after Tony.  He made it out onto the landing at the top of the stairs in time to hear the front door slam.  Should he follow Tony?  He wanted to, but the sound of his alarm blaring made it clear that if he did he would be late for work and this wasn’t a day he could miss or show up late.  Banner was going to present his super soldier serum to a Queen’s Officer, and if things went badly, his funding could be drastically cut.  Things had to be perfect or there might not be a job to come back to tomorrow, and he had bills to pay.  If he lost that job because he hadn’t showed up his reputation would be shot to shit and he’d likely never get a job as good again.  He grimaced.  Tony was going to be furious with him if he got fired – and if he let Banner down he would be even angrier.  Cursing himself, Steve heading back into his room to get dressed.  Tony was probably going to be waiting for him at work – he wouldn’t miss Banner’s presentation.

 

By the time Steve trudged home, he was exhausted and ready to curl up in a ball and sob.  Banner’s Serum project had failed miserably even with Sam and Steve trying to make things as perfect as possible.  They had been lucky to leave Banner’s workshop in one piece.  The equipment Banner had created to mimic the one Erskine had built had exploded, and since Banner had used himself as a test subject, he had taken the most of the damage.  How he had survived was anyone’s guess, but after they had pulled him from the wreckage he had been a rather stunning shade of green.  It had lasted for fifteen minutes before fading away, returning him to his regular skin tone.  He had been excited at first.  Surviving the blast had to have meant something – but then the Queen’s Officer had sighed and shaken her head and handed him a packet that had clearly been written beforehand.  And that, had been that.  Banner’s funding had been slashed down to a fourth of what it had been, and Steve’s hours had been slashed to the barest allowable under the Queen’s Law.  Steve would be lucky to work every other day; Sam was suffering with the same problem.

Tony hadn’t shown up.

Sighing to himself, too tired to go out and hunt Tony down, Steve made himself dinner and went to bed.

 

Steve woke the next morning to find Tony still gone.  He searched the house for signs of Tony’s return and found everything as it had been left the night before.  Tony hadn’t come home since he had left the morning before, and Steve had no idea where to start looking for him.  Before their fight he might have gone to Banner’s Workshop to track him down, but it wasn’t likely that Tony would be there, not if he had missed Banner’s presentation.  He wondered if he should be worried.  Was Tony hurt?  Was he unable to come home?  Tony had always been very good at taking care of himself, so it seemed unlikely that he was in trouble.  If he was, it was early to be waking the search dogs even if Steve’s stomach did twist itself in knots at the thought of Tony not being home that night.

Wearily, Steve scraped together a meal from the leftovers he had saved for Tony the night before and tried to think of the future, eating on the couch with the photo album he had found in the closet propped up on the pillows beside him for company.  He felt lost.  Tony’s debt payments would be the same as before, even with his lower income, but it would be harder and harder to pay everything down with a slashed wage.  He would have to get himself a second job, assuming of course that he could find someone that would take him.  Maybe he would have to take a third job or a fourth to keep up.  The debt was so impossibly high, it was a wonder anyone had let Howard Stark borrow so much.  How had the man expected to pay it off?

Steve forced himself to leave the house.  Jobs wouldn’t appear magically, and it would be up to him to find them.  He started out asking around at the stores and restaurants he and Tony frequented to see if anyone was looking for someone to do an odd job or two.  He would take anything he could get, but none of the staff he talked to had anything for him to do.  After the tenth place had turned him down, he started to wonder if it was him and not the places he was asking.

Disappointed by failure, Steve made his way down to the one business he knew that might be able to point him to work that might help him pay down Tony’s debt.  The Wasp and Ant was booming when he slipped inside after getting a nod of recognition from a bouncer he didn’t recognize.  He was startled at first by the wave of clientele gathered around the bar.  Jan was behind the counter beside Luke, resplendent in a gold and white dress, and while she was tending bar it seemed like she was giving people gifts instead of giving them the drinks they had paid for.  She spotted Steve almost immediately and slipped through the crowd followed by saddened cries from the men and women she had yet to serve.

“Steve!”  Jan said as she embraced him.  “It’s good to see you!”

Steve hugged Jan back, feeling awkward and undeserving of her affection.  He shouldn’t be getting a hug like this after Tony had vanished, but for some reason Jan didn’t seem to know that and she wasn’t letting go.  “Hello,” he said.  The din of the crowd was booming in his ear; every clinking glass felt like it was a bullet passing him by.  He flinched.  Jan must have noticed because she hugged him tighter.

“You’re ok, Steve.  You’re safe here,” Jan said. 

Steve pulled away when he was allowed to and smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I should have known it was going to be busy when I got here.”

Jan patted Steve’s shoulder lightly.  “Don’t worry about it, darling,” she said.  “You’re not the first solider I’ve met who’s come back from the Front flinching at every sound.  It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”  She led him over to a pair of unoccupied chairs in the corner of the room that gave them the best view of everything going on and motioned for him to take a seat.  “So I take it you’re here about Tony.  It’ll be hard saving up to pay off his debt now that that job of yours with Banner has had its hours reduced,” she said.

Steve stared at Jan, his mouth a flat line.  He had known that Jan would be keeping a close eye on him, but he hadn’t thought she would hear about Banner’s bad luck so quickly.

“I have people all over,” Jan said, smiling at Steve in a way that was far less friendly than before.  “Don’t think I don’t know all the dirty little secrets you’ve been trying to hide.”

“What secrets?” Steve asked, baffled.

“Exactly,” Jan said, pouting.  “You’re positively boring.  Do something interesting, will you?  Have an affair – fall in love – anything.  I’m tired of hearing stories about you painting your house.  You’re not in it for fame, or money or power – well, not any more than any regular person walking the streets.”

Steve chuckled.  “I’m starting to think you know me too well,” he said.

“I have to know people,” Jan said.  “It’s my job to know people.  It keeps my staff safe if I can tell them who not to let into their beds.”  She flapped a hand at Steve sighing to herself.  “You’re looking for a nice place to call home, not a bloodbath, although from what I’ve gathered about your super soldier serum, you could handle anything that comes at you if it does come to that.”

Steve scowled.  “Who told you about that?”

“Tony lets things slip when he visits,” Jan said.  “He worries about you, you know that, don’t you?”

Tony worried about him?  If he did, he certainly hadn’t said anything, Steve though with a sigh.

“For the record, I found out about Banner’s little mishap because I was keeping tabs on the Queen’s Officer that came to review him.  She owes me a lot of money and hasn’t paid a lick of it back yet,” Jan said.  She shrugged, as if being a rentable purse for a woman who should have been rolling in the Queen’s money didn’t bother her in the least.

“I take it she’s interesting?” Steve asked.

“Very,” Jan said.  “I don’t exactly know if I can trust her or not.  There are rumors going around that she’s a double agent for Hydra.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed.  A double agent? Here? In the Queen’s city?  He didn’t like the sound of that one bit.  “Have you told anyone?” he asked.

Jan cocked an eyebrow.  “Without proof?  Of course not.  That’s a good way to get someone killed, and as I’ve said, she owes me money and I’d like to at least continue to entertain the notion of someday getting it back.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest.

“You wouldn’t last very long as a spy for the Queen,” Jan said, dryly. 

“It’s my job to -,” Steve said with a huff.

Jan held up a finger, silencing him.  “No, darling.  It is not your job.  It is someone else job now that they’ve dismissed you.  You’re not longer The Captain – you do not have to do a thing for the Queen if you don’t want to.  Your duty is to your family and friends.”

Steve shook his head.  “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” Jan smiled sadly.  “You’re still employed by the Queen’s army then?  Are they footing your bill? Are they helping you find work while you recover at home from the dreadful things you saw at the Front – things they caused?”

Steve stiffened.

“Come now, Captain,” Jan said.  “You didn’t think it was you who got Bucky killed, did you?”

“No one got Bucky killed,” Steve said with a growl.  “What happened was an accident.”

“Sure it was,” Jan said.  She sighed.  “Maybe I shouldn’t be showing you this.  You’re clearly not ready.”

“Show me what?” Steve said.

Jan hummed softly to herself and then produced a folder from up her sleeve.  She shifted it between hands, watching Steve carefully.  “I need you to keep an open mind, Steve,” she said after a minute of contemplation.

“I always do,” Steve said.

Jan snorted.  “Sure you do,” she said.  She sighed and handed him the folder.  “I care for the Queen, don’t get me wrong, but I worry more for her subjects these days.  She wants me to, of course.  We’re old friends, she and I.  I keep an eye on things for her down here in the dark, and she makes sure that I keep my nose out of the real trouble when it does pop up.”

Steve stared down at the folder.  Should he read what was inside or not?

“You’ll recognize the handwriting,” Jan said.  “Another friend of mine wrote it.”

Steve flipped the folder open.  Jan was right.  The handwriting was recognizable.  This was Peggy Carter’s work.  The papers inside were reports, all of them directed at a Nicholas Fury.  The reports documented in minute detail the death of Howard Stark.  It hadn’t been an automobile accident like the newspapers had claimed.  Peggy had found a source who had supplied her with the truth.  Howard Stark’s death had been a hit, one orchestrated by a top Hydra Officer, one who had been undercover in their city and likely was still residing with them.  Steve glanced at the date on the report.  It had been written on the exact day Bucky had fallen to his death.

“So?” Jan said, impatiently.  She leaned forwards, her elbows on her knees.  “What do you think?”

“This is bad,” Steve said, trying to push the date out of his mind.  “Do we know if she’s had any contact with this supposed source since then?”

“I’ve had sporadic reports from her since, yes.  She’s been careful and there’s nothing new to show for her poking around,” Jan said.  “No one has a clue who the supposed officer is or where they might be aiming their sights next.”

“She’s ok?” Steve asked.  He hadn’t spoken to Peggy or his Howling Commandos since he had departed from the Front.  Reading their letters had been too painful, and he hadn’t wanted to be cruel to them by sending them letters about his mundane, boring life.  Bucky would have been sore with him for not sending anything back.

“Captain?” Jan said, her voice going soft.  She shifted in her chair till she was perched on the very edge of it and reached out to grasp his hands in hers.  “You don’t need to worry about her.  She’s fine.  She’s been in town on the Queen’s orders for the past week.  She can take care of herself.”

Steve swallowed hard.  Peggy had been in the city and hadn’t stopped by?  It wasn’t like he had given her an address, but still she could have come to see him.  Maybe she hadn’t wanted to see him.  After everything that had happened, things were different between them.

Jan seemed to sense his guilt.  “I can put in a word for you if you’d like,” she said.  “I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear you asked about her.”

Steve smiled, grateful at not having to ask.  “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Jan said.  “So – back to business.”

“Right,” Steve said, nodding.  Business.  “Is there anything I can do around here?”

“You’re asking for a job?” Jan asked, her eyes crinkling at the corners.  “You do realize who you’re asking, don’t you?”

“I know,” Steve said.

“I can give you a few hours a week,” Jan allowed with a sigh.  “You can be my safety net.  Gods know we always need those, no matter how hard we check the people who come in here.  You can start now if you’d like.”

“Sure,” Steve said, standing up. 

“Luke will show you around,” Jan said.  “Our regular safety net will be happy to have some time off to decompress.”

Steve winced.  He hadn’t wanted to take time away from someone else.  “I don’t want to get in the way – if you don’t have space that’s fine, really.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Jan said, quickly with a laugh.  “It’s not a problem.  She’ll still get the same pay regardless of the hours.  Think of it this way – you’ll be her new favourite person.”

Steve laughed.  “That’s a relief.”

“Really, I’m glad to have you, Steve,” Jan said with a smile.  She stood up and stretched, slipping the file back into her sleeve.  “You’re keeping Tony safe, and I already owe you for that.”

Steve smiled crookedly.  “I don’t know how much use I am at that,” he said.  “I don’t even know where he is right now.”

Jan frowned.  “He didn’t tell you he was heading here yesterday?  That’s odd.” 

“He’s still here?” Steve asked.

“Oh yes.  He went upstairs with a client earlier.  She’s not usually here but she came looking for him and he was in at the time,” Jan said.  “I’m sure they’re enjoying catching up.”

Steve’s tongue felt like it had swollen up.

“He’s not working, of course,” Jan said, her attention back on the bar.  “I don’t allow freelancing.”  She squinted at the staircase and the rooms up above.  “He’d _better_ not be freelancing.”

“I’m sure he’s just catching up with a friend,” Steve said.  He liked Tony, loved him even, but he knew that Tony didn’t feel the same way about him.  He wasn’t going to get in the way of Tony’s happiness.  If Tony had someone special, then he was happy for him, even if he did feel like someone had stomped around in his chest.

“Want a drink?” Jan asked.

“Not if I’m working,” Steve said.

Jan smiled.  “You’re getting better and better by the minute.”

 

 

Steve was surprised by how little intervening he had to do.  Everyone seemed very aware of the rules, and even though half the people were smashed, none of them were doing anything even remotely out of line.  By the time the Wasp and Ant had closed up for the night – as closed up as they ever were, apparently – he found himself alone at the bar without even Luke for company.  He did the dishes Luke had asked him to finish and smiled grimly as he stacked the last glass of the night.

Tony had yet to appear, despite Jan’s belief that he would be walking home with Steve that night.  Steve was starting to think Tony had spotted him and left on his own, or perhaps made plans to spend the night with his lady-friend.

Steve as just pulling on his jacket when Tony sauntered downstairs on the arm of a stunning young woman with coppery hair.  Tony had his arm around her waist and was staring at her in adoration, taking the stairs two at a time to keep up with her.  She was taller than he was and was dressed in a modest black dress with a hemline that just barely kept from touching the floor.  When she walked it looked like she was floating on air.  She was staring back at Tony with the same look in her eyes, her arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

Steve’s stomach roiled.  This wasn’t any of his business.  Maybe he shouldn’t have waited for Tony after all.  He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and kept to the wall as he made for the door, his head hanging low, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed.

The streets were dark; Steve was glad of it.  He felt better with the darkness swallowing him up.  At least this way Tony wouldn’t be likely to spot him, assuming Tony took the same route home – assuming, again that Tony was going to return home at all.  He reminded himself yet again that Tony wasn’t his – Tony was his own person and he could make his own decisions.  Tony had probably loved the copper haired woman long before they had even _met_.  He hurried down the street, trying to put as much distance between himself and the Wasp and Ant as possible.

“Steve?”  Tony’s voice was faint but growing louder.

Steve stiffened and cursed his luck.  He plastered a bland, uninterested expression on his face, burying his despair and turned to face Tony as though he hadn’t expected to see him.

The woman with coppery-hair was still with Tony.  She was hanging off of his arm, still smiling up at Tony like he had personally crafted the stars for her.  Up close it was easier to see the freckles dusting her pale skin and the hair escaping from her loose ponytail.

Tony smiled at the woman.  “This is Pepper Potts,” he said.  “She’s from the Potts family – they make bricks and stoneware.”

Steve smiled mechanically at Pepper.  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Potts.”  He held out his hand and took Pepper’s dainty one in his own, giving it a gentle but firm shake.

Pepper smiled up at Steve; she was taller than Tony, but not quite as tall as Steve.  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the man who has been taking such good care of Tony,” she said.

“I’m glad to help,” Steve said.

Tony glanced between Pepper and Steve, his grin growing slowly wider by the second.  “Should we tell him?”

“You don’t want to wait?” Pepper said with a frown.  “I thought you said you’d wait till he was sitting down.”

“I can’t wait – I lied,” Tony said.  “Pepper’s lent me the money I need to pay off my entire debt.  We’ve already dropped it off with Jan.”  He pointed at his bare neck.  The rose collar Steve had been forced to give him so many months ago when Bucky’s will had thrown them together was gone.  Tony pulled the collar from his pocket and twirled it around his wrist.  “What do you think I should do with this?”

Steve shrugged.  “It’s yours.  You decide.”

Tony chuckled.  He spun the collar around his wrist again and then held it out to Steve.  “You keep it.  You’re the one who picked it out.  It’s beautiful, if irritating.”

Steve took the collar hesitantly and then slipped it into his pocket as Tony turned to stare adoringly at Pepper again.  If this was the one piece of Tony he was allowed to keep, then he would take care of it and put it somewhere no one would ever see it.

They walked Pepper home.  She lived in a house on the corner of the street near the Merchant’s District and while she resided in a modest looking home, it was clear that she had devoted money to making sure it was secure.  She insisted that she’d be fine fending for herself for the night and shooed them from her doorstep once Tony was satisfied that she was safe.

Steve focused his attention on the cobblestones beneath his feet, wishing he could be home in bed, alone, to mourn in peace.  He was glad that Tony was free of his debt.  He wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore – Pepper would take care of him now.

“So, Captain,” Tony said, speeding up so he could walk beside Steve.  “How has your night gone?  Did you enjoy your visit to the Wasp and Ant as much as I did?”  He waggled his eyebrows and elbowed Steve in the side playfully. 

“I wasn’t there for fun,” Steve said, his hand still crammed in his pockets.

Tony frowned.  “Didn’t find anyone you liked?”

“No,” Steve said.  Everything he wanted had been upstairs with someone else, or lying dead in a trench somewhere on the Front.  He never had been very good with love.  He always fell for people who moved on, it seemed.  “I was there to pay the bills, that’s all,” he said.

Tony’s frown deepened.  “What are you talking about?  You have a perfectly good job with Bruce Banner?  Why would you need to work at the Wasp and Ant?”

“You haven’t heard what happened after Banner’s presentation, have you?” Steve said with a snort, increasing his gait.

Tony hurried to keep up.  “What – that was this week?  I thought it was on the fourth!”

“Yesterday was the fourth,” Steve said with a grunt.

“Oh,” Tony said, his voice going soft.  He grabbed Steve’s arm and tugged on it.

Steve slowed with reluctance.  “What?”

“Don’t what me,” Tony snapped.  “What happened?  Is Bruce alright?  Is Sam alright?  They were supposed to be testing the serum they were developing.”

“They did.  Sam is fine and Bruce is – well, I don’t know.  I’m assuming he’s fine, but who knows what those chemicals did to him.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, eye wide.

“He used himself as a test subject,” Steve said.  “Wasn’t that the plan?”

“It sure as hell wasn’t!” Tony said, looking horrified.  “Why would he do something so reckless – so foolish?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said.  “He wasn’t all that happy when I got there and by the time I left he looked like he was going to punch his way through a wall.”

Tony flinched like he had been hit.

“I’ve been away from the house,” Steve said.  “I don’t know if anything’s changed since I was gone.  I had the day off from work.  His project had unfavorable results and the Queen cut his funding down to a fourth of what it was.”

“Why didn’t you come get me earlier?” Tony asked, freezing in his tracks.

“You were busy,” Steve said.  He started walking again and then stopped when he realized that Tony wasn’t following him.  “What did you expect me to do, Tony?  You left without telling me where you were going!  You didn’t come home – you didn’t send a note or leave one.  How was I supposed to come get you?  I only found you, as it is, because I went looking for work at Jan’s.”

“So you decided to punish me?  Is that was this is?  I didn’t do what you wanted so you punished me by keeping this from me?” Tony said, fists clenched.

Steve stiffened.  “I did not punish you,” he snapped.  This tome he wouldn’t take the blame – not when he was being blamed for something he hadn’t done.  “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t thinking about it.  I was focusing on keeping us alive and fed – on keeping our house from falling down.  I wasn’t going to hide anything from you.  I was going to tell you as soon as I saw you and I did – I told you.”

Tony stared at Steve, his mouth agape, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.  “Steve,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry Tony, I really am.  I’m sorry.  I told you as soon as I could,” Steve said.  “I had things on my mind.”

“You don’t have to worry about paying the bills anymore,” Tony said.  “I took care of it, remember?”

“I know that – now,” Steve said, scowling.

“I told you I’d find a way to take care of my debt,” Tony said.

“Can we please talk about this later?” Steve pleaded. 

“Fine,” Tony said.  “We can talk about it at home.”

Steve started walking again, shoulders hunched once more.

“Are you alright?” Tony asked, hurrying to keep up.  “Stop walking so damned fast!”  He tugged on Steve’s arm again and when Steve slowed again he looped his arm through Steve’s, hanging on as though trying to use his weigh to keep Steve from running off. 

Tony was warm against Steve’s side.  It was strange to be so close to someone and have it mean utterly nothing.  Tony was probably just cold.

“Are you alright?” Tony asked again.

“I’m fine,” Steve said.

“Did Banner’s workshop explode?” Tony asked.

“No,” Steve said.  “It’s still standing as far as I know.  He’s going to need to liquidate half of his equipment to keep afloat but the last I saw of it, it was still fully stocked and safe.”

“I can’t believe he tested it on himself,” Tony muttered.  “He could have gotten himself killed.”

Steve smiled bitterly.  Bucky had said that to him too, back when he had gone through with the serum.  “I guess he didn’t’ think he had any other options,” he said.

“Did it do anything?” Tony asked, steering Steve towards their street.

“It made him puff up and turn a lovely shade of green for a few minutes,” Steve said.

Tony let out a barked laugh.  “He turned _green_?  Oh gods, he must have been miserable.  That’s his least favourite colour.”

 

 

They walked up the front steps together.  Tony fished Steve’s keys out of his pocket and smirked when Steve’s ears went faintly pink.  “Oh relax, Captain,” he said as he opened the door.  “It’s just your pocket.  It’s not like I put my hand down your pants.”

Tony wandered to the kitchen, humming softly to himself.

Steve headed for the stairs after shucking his boots at the door.

“Where are you going?” Tony asked, perplexed.  “Aren’t we eating dinner?”

“I’m not hungry,” Steve said from the top of the stairs.  “There’s plenty to eat in the fridge.  I’m afraid you’ll have to fend for yourself tonight.”

“I thought we were going to talk,” Tony said, lips pursed in displeasure.

“We can talk tomorrow,” Steve said, pulling open his bedroom door.  Right now all he wanted to do was sleep.

 

 

Steve woke slowly, pulled from his dreams.  His left side was suspiciously warmer than it had been before he had gone to bed and someone was lying on him.  He opened one eye slowly, weary. 

Tony was sitting beside him flipping through the photo album Steve had left lying on the couch.  He was near the end of the album, and was staring down at the pictures, his face pale as milk.  He paused, nimble fingers reaching out to stroke the picture there on the last page.  This picture was one Steve had added, one he had carried around with him at the Front.  It was a picture of him and Bucky smiling at the camera, Bucky’s arm thrown around Steve’s shoulder.  Bucky was kissing Steve’s cheek.  They had both been drunk as hell.  The war had just broken out and Bucky had been trying to cheer Steve up.  The photographer had been a friend of a friend; he had given Bucky two copies, and as far as Steve knew, Bucky had kept his copy with him at the Front too.

Tony cleared his throat.  “This was Bucky Barnes’ house, wasn’t it,” he said.  He swallowed hard and stroke the picture again, fingers brushing Bucky’s face.

“It was his grandfather’s house,” Steve said with a frown.  “Didn’t I tell you how I got it?”

“You never said his name,” Tony said, staring mournfully down at the picture.

Why was Tony staring at Bucky like that?  He knew that Tony and Bucky had known each other, but wasn’t Tony smitten with Pepper Potts?  Why did he look so sad?

“Jan told me he had died,” Tony said.  “I just – I was hoping it was wrong, you know?  You always hear things about the Front and half of them are bullshit.”

“I wish it wasn’t true either,” Steve said, softly.

“He told me he was going to pay off my debt someday,” Tony said, wistfully.  “He used to come by whenever he had money, even if it was just to buy me a drink.  Jan used to give him discounts because she said she liked my smiles best when I was with him.”

“He never – he never told me that,” Steve said.  His heart was aching again, the pain burning brightly all over again.  He had thought he had known Bucky so well and yet he hadn’t.

“I should have figured it out you were his Stevie,” Tony said with a wet, choked off laugh.  He wiped at his eyes and began crying, his shoulders shaking as he tried not to sob out loud.  “I thought he was talking about someone else.  He used to say he wanted to ask you out when he was drunk – hell, he’d ask me out sometimes too.  Claimed he loved us best of all.  Both of us.”

Steve’s eyes stung.  “He never said anything,” he said.

“People tell courtesans a lot of things they can’t tell other people,” Tony said.  He closed the photo album.  “Did you – did you love him back?”

Steve sighed.

“Steve?” Tony murmured, not looking at Steve.  “Did you love him back?”

“Yes,” Steve mumbled.

“Oh,” Tony said, clearing his throat again.  He shifted as if to crawl out of bed; Steve wrapped his arms around him to keep him from fleeing.

“Stay,” Steve said

“Why?” Tony asked.  “Let me go.  I get it now, alright?  I get why you didn’t want to touch me.”

“Did _you_ love him?” Steve asked, needing to know the truth.  Bucky had kept enough secrets.  It was time to find out what had really happened – what he had really meant to Tony.

Tony slumped against Steve, his head bumping against Steve’s meaty shoulder.  He didn’t speak for a moment and simply stared up at the ceiling as if it had all the answers.

“He must have loved you,” Steve ventured.  “He sent me to the Wasp and Ant.  I don’t think he would have done that if he didn’t love you back.  He wanted someone to take care of you.”

Tony chuckled darkly.  “You have a lot of faith in him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Steve said rubbing gentle circles on Tony’s stomach.  “I grew up with him.  He never – well, no, I guess he _did_ hide a few things.  But I still trust his judgement.  He was always good with people, and he always took care of the people he loved.”

“You could have ended up picking someone else,” Tony said.  “That Will was his, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Steve said.  “I didn’t tell you about it, did I?”  He hung his head in shame.  There were so many things he hadn’t said to Tony because he was in too much pain to utter Bucky’s name.  It was easier now, but it still hurt to think about the will and what it had meant to Bucky.

“Jan didn’t say a word,” Tony said with a snort.  “I should yell at her.”

“I think she thought I told you,” Steve said with a sigh.

“Maybe she thought I told you about Bucky too,” Tony said with a laugh.  “How did we go so many months without saying anything?”

Steve smiled through his tears.  “I guess was easier to say nothing,” he said.  “But at least his meddling brought me you.”

Tony rolled over onto his side and lifted his head so he could look Steve in the eye.

“What?” Steve murmured.

Tony moved until he was closer, until his face was close enough that Steve could feel his breath.

“ _What_?” Steve asked again, his voice cracking.  He wiped at his eyes.

Tony smiled.  He leaned in and kissed Steve, his fingers tangling in Steve’s shirt.

Steve couldn’t help but kiss Tony back.  It felt right having Tony so close.  Tony was so warm and soft.  His beard tickled in a way that was unexpectedly delightful and when they parted, both of them panting, Tony pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek that left Steve red in the face.

“If Bucky could see us now he would probably be extremely jealous,” Tony said.

“You’re right,” Steve agreed.

Tony tugged at Steve’s shirt and kissed him again.

Steve slipped his hands under Tony’s shirt and held on tight.


	3. The Theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war loomed closer, even though Steve had nothing to do with it anymore - or so he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you spot any errors and I'll fix them!

Steve’s alarm was blaring, screaming out bloody murder.  He shrugged off his blanket and sat up, stretching.  He felt calmer than he had in years and while his body had already recovered from the night before his mind was still supplying a faux soreness, a pleasant soreness that made him want to lie back down and take pleasure in Tony’s warmth all over again.  He smiled down at Tony, who was trying to burrow beneath the pillows in order to escape the light creeping through the crack in the curtains.

Steve’s smile vanished.

This was wrong.

Tony had Pepper.

They had slept together and Tony had Pepper.

Oh gods.

This was wrong.

Tony sat up with a groan and scrubbed his hands through his hair.  “Do we have to get up?” he asked, his voice a growl.  “I’d rather sleep in and fool around some more.”

Steve grimaced.  He wanted to do the same.  It was wrong and he wanted to do the same.  He was a horrible person – oh gods.  He was a _horrible_ person.

Tony yawned and rubbed at his eyes.  “You’re not still worried about work, are you?  My debts paid off – you don’t need to work so much.  I can handle things.”

“Banner is going to be furious if I don’t show up,” Steve said.  “I promised to work for him and I intend to keep working for him until he decides he doesn’t want me around anymore.”

“Alright, alright.  You don’t need to be so dramatic about it,” Tony said with a groan.  “Fine.  We’ll go in to work.  Spoilsport.”

“You don’t need to come with me,” Steve said.  He picked up his shirt and pulled it on, buttoning it up with speed, not wanting to slow down for fear he might fall back into bed with Tony. One foolish tryst was enough.  They could stop – They could apologize to Pepper and fix things.

“I’m Banner’s friend,” Tony said.  “Of course I’m coming with you.  I need to talk to him – to apologize for missing his big day.”

“You could go visit Pepper,” Steve blurted.  “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”

Tony stared blankly up at Steve, hurt flashing in his eyes.  “Hold on one second,” he said.  “You’re having second thoughts about us because of _Pepper_?”

“There is no us,” Steve said, turning his back to Tony as he pulled on his discarded briefs.

“What? Why?” Tony murmured.

“You’re with Pepper,” Steve said.  “Last night shouldn’t have happened.  We made a _horrible_ decision.”

Tony stood up so fast he tripped on the blankets still slung over his legs and crashed into Steve’s back, his face ending up smooshed against Steve’s shirt as he cursed; he wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and clung like a limpet.  “Steve – darling,” he mumbled into Steve’s stomach, “Sweetheart, I am not dating Pepper Potts.  I love her as a friend – I’m not in love with her.”

Steve frowned down at Tony.

Tony pulled himself up Steve, using him as a ladder.  “I am not dating Pepper Potts,” Tony repeated.  He flattened down the wrinkles he had made in Steve’s shirt, smoothing the fabric down.  “Pepper is engaged to a lovely woman – one you know.  She’s going to be Pepper Potts-Romanoff one of these days and if I so much as blinked at her romantically, Natasha Romanoff would beat me silly and throw me off a bridge in a bag filled with rocks.”  He patted Steve’s chest.  “I know – I get it.  I always look at her like I’m in love, but that’s just because she’s an absolute angel.  We grew up together!  She’s been watching out for me ever since my father sold me off.”

“I’m – I’m so sorry,” Steve said, paling.  “I shouldn’t have assumed.  Oh – I’m so, so, sorry.”

“To be fair,” Tony said, “I was half convinced you were in love with someone else, you know so I’m not exactly standing on moral high ground now either.”

“So Natasha and Pepper are engaged?” Steve said.  That explained a lot, really.  No wonder she hadn’t been worried about being alone in her house.  No one was going to go after an assassin’s spouse – not unless they wanted to end up dead.

“They haven’t set a date yet.  Natasha has been doing the Queen’s business and she isn’t sure they should get married while the war is still on.  It’s all very dramatic and sweet.  Pepper and I talked about it at the Wasp and Ant – that’s why we needed a private room.  It’s never a good idea to talk about things like that with so many ears listening,” Tony said.  “Pepper hasn’t been in the country for the past year – Natasha insisted she spend time elsewhere when the fighting started getting bad.”

“I suppose that’s a good idea,” Steve said.  It would be nice to take a break from the war, even for a little while.  Sometimes it swallowed up too much of him and made him feel like he’d never crawl free of it.

“Darling,” Tony said, fixing Steve’s collar.  “Darling, you are the only one for me.”

“We should have talked about this,” Steve said with a sigh.  “I wish we could have talked with Bucky about this.”

“Me too,” Tony said.  “It would have been nice to have the both of you.”

Steve licked his lips.  “That would have been very nice,” he said, clearing his throat.

Tony’s eyebrows rose.  “Here I was thinking that you wouldn’t be interested,” he said.  “I should have suggested Bucky bring you by sometime.”

Steve cupped Tony’s face in his hands.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I know I’ve said it already but I’m sorry.  For what happened in your workshop – for everything.”

“Don’t mention the workshop,” Tony said with a groan, pressing a kiss to Steve’s chin.  “I may have neglected to mention I was smitten with you when we had that argument.  Pepper agrees that I was an idiot.”

“You talked with her about me?” Steve asked with a laugh.  He was glad tony had someone to talk to; he missed the days when he had Bucky to confide in.  It had been impossible to bring himself to have a conversation about Tony with Tony until now.

“Oh I whined and moaned about you mostly,” Tony said.  He pressed another kiss to Steve’s lips, going up on the tips of his toes to do it.  He stroked Steve’s cheek.  “You were being an asshole and I needed to vent.  Of course I didn’t know why you were being an asshole – and I didn’t stick around and ask either so this is entirely half my fault.”

Steve sighed.  “I didn’t meant to make you angry,” he said.

“I know,” Tony said.  “Pepper explained everything to me after I ranted at her.  I may not have been listening to what you were saying – or maybe I wasn’t saying the things the way I thought I was saying them.”

“Oh good.  I thought it was just me mishearing and saying all the wrong things,” Steve said.

“According to Pepper I have a tendency to hear the word no when I make plans, even if no one has actually, in fact, said the word no,” Tony said with a sheepish grin.  “Jan’s told me a thousand times – and for the record I figured out that you were trying to be helpful with the clothes all on my own.”

“I see,” Steve said.

“I mean, I figured it out after I dumped them on your head,” Tony said, sighing.  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Speaking of clothing,” Steve said, clearing his throat.  “Are you planning on putting any on before we go to work?”

Tony scowled.  “Do I have to?”

“Feel free to remain naked for as long as you like,” Steve said.  “Although I’m not so sure Sam and Banner will be so happy about seeing you in your birthday suit.  Or the rest of the city, for that matter.  As beautiful as you are, I think they’d rather you be wearing pants at the very least.”

“Fine,” Tony grumbled, slipping free of Steve’s grasp after planting another kiss on his lips.  “Be that way.  Make me be sensible.”  He rummaged through the stack of clothing on the dresser, all of it his from the day before, when he had so unceremoniously dumped it on Steve’s head.  He pulled on a red shirt with faux gold buttons and sorted through the neat pile Steve had created for his pants.

Steve’s face heated up at the sight of Tony’s bare thighs peeking out from under the edge of the shirt.  He had known Tony would look good in anything, but he had underestimated just how good Tony would look in little to nothing as well.

“Like what you see?” Tony said with a laugh.  He made of a show of bending over to pick up some socks that he had knocked over and went back to comparing the pants Steve had bought him, humming at them in contentment.

Steve smiled softly.  He plucked his pants off of the floor and tugged them on.

Tony turned when he heard the bed creak and scowled.  “Why are you rushing?”

“I’m not rushing,” Steve said.  “I’m getting ready so we can pick up breakfast on the way.  Or did you not want to have breakfast today?”

“Cruelty,” Tony muttered.

Steve buttoned up his pants and pulled on his socks, chuckling.  His heart felt lighter now that he knew the truth about Tony and Pepper.  Tony was his – truly, his – and that thought made him feel almost giddy.  He wasn’t daydreaming – this was _real_.  Bucky was gone, yes, but while he loved Bucky and always would – as would Tony – he wasn’t alone anymore.  They could move on with their lives.

“Steve?” Tony said, looping his arm around Steve’s waist.

“Hm?” Steve combed his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself look presentable.

“Are we dating?” Tony asked, hesitantly.

“I sure hope so,” Steve said.

Tony grinned.  He squeezed Steve’s hip and pressed a kiss to his chin.  “I’ve never dated anyone before.  This is new – I like it.”

“I’ve never dated anyone before either,” Steve said.  “If you want, we can make breakfast our first date.”

Tony grinned harder.  “That sounds absolutely magical.”

 

The line-up for the restaurant Steve had steered them towards was longer than expected.  It trailed around the block and there were a good ten to twenty people inside already waiting for seats.  The woman taking orders to go was more than happy to package up their meal and send them off with it so she could deal with the rest of her eat-in diners.    They made it to Bruce’s Workshop a few minutes before Steve was scheduled to arrive.  Tony nibbled at the sandwich Steve had bought him, and laughed when Steve held the door open for him.  He had had his arm slung through Steve’s the entire walk there and seemed reluctant to let go.

They found Sam already at work sweeping up broken glass and equipment.  He looked relieved to have company and motioned for them to join him, his waves quick and sharp.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.  The workshop was missing more tables and equipment than it had been when he had been in the las time.  The table that been covered with beakers and piping was lying broken into ragged chunks on the floor, and there was a suspiciously large pile of scrap metal lying twisted on the floor amidst the mess.  It looked like someone had been trying to make pretzels out of the metal.

“Bruce is not having a good week,” Sam murmured.  He looked around the workshop, nervously glancing from side to side to make sure that they were alone.  Steve wasn’t sure, but he thought for a second that he saw fear there in Sam’s eyes.

“Whatever you do, do not make him angry.  He’s not acting like himself – he hasn’t been since the day he did that damn demonstration for the Queen’s advisor,” Sam said.

Steve frowned.  Normally Bruce was fairly laid back, albeit picky about how he kept his workspaces, but he had never been angry before, or at least, he had never been angry when Steve had been around.  Had the serum Bruce used done something to him?  Everyone had assumed it was mostly a dud because the changes, radical as they were, hadn’t lasted.

Sam heaved a sigh.  “He’s destroyed three projects since last night – he spent it here, at the workshop because he didn’t want to go home.”

“How long have you been here?” Tony asked.

“Since yesterday morning,” Sam admitted with a scowl.  “I wanted to go home but there was too much of a mess and every time I cleaned something up he broke something new.”

“That’s not good,” Steve said.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Sam said, waving off Steve’s concern.  “It’s the projects I’m worried about.  I’ve saved all of his notes but everything that was working has mysteriously stopped working.  His alchemy’s been effected somehow – it’s not acting right.  I don’t think his notes will be of much use, unless someone knows his code, but at least they’ll be safe.”

Tony stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and motioned for Sam to wait.

Steve sighed.  “So the work’s legible?”

“To an Alchemist,” Tony said, swallowing audibly.  “We use similar shorthand.  The rest of it I can figure out if I have time.  We can help him sort through the mistakes – or whatever it is going on.”

“Well whatever you do, be careful about it,” Sam said with a sigh. 

“Steve?”  Bruce’s voice was half-growl-half-groan.  He appeared in the doorway from his private lab, swaying as he walked.  It was easy to see the anger in his eyes.  His skin was faintly green and he had puffed up, seemingly growing three times his usual size as though he had been filled with air like a balloon.    It was a miracle his clothing had stayed on; most of it was torn and struggling to keep together by its seams.

Tony watched Bruce approach beside Steve.  He tentatively smiled at him.

Sam backed away.

“Brucie-bear!” Tony said.  “I’m glad you’re alright.  I heard about what happened from Steve.”

“You weren’t there,” Bruce bellowed, his massive fists clenching.

Tony sighed.  “I know.  I’m sorry, Bruce.  I got my days mixed up and by the time I figured it out it was already too late.”

“You’re sorry?” Bruce snarled.  He shook his head, his nose wrinkling, and kicked the closest table with a move so fast it made Steve jump back.  “You’re sorry?  You think sorry will cut it?”  The table exploded into shards that rivaled confetti.

Steve reacted without hesitation.  He kicked a round disc of vibranium, one Tony had made for fun the last time he had been working with Bruce in the workshop, and used it as a shield to block the shards as they flew at Tony’s face.  The metal plinked as it was hit.

Tony’s eyes grewer wide when Steve lowered the disc.

Bruce let out a frustrated roar and shook his head again.

“Bruce?” Tony murmured.  “You could have hurt someone.”

Bruce snorted bitterly.  “Why does that matter?  My life is over!  I’ll never be able to fix this mess – my work is gone – my alchemy is gone.  I have nothing and soon the Queen’s Advisor will be back to collect the last of my things and I’ll have nothing!”

“You have your brain,” Tony said.  “You haven’t lost everything yet.  Sam’s still got your research – it’s still here.”

“Notes don’t matter,” Bruce snapped, nostrils flaring. “Functional work does.  I can’t work, Tony.  Nothing turns out the way I want it.  I’ve lost everything.”  He stomped his feet; the floor beneath him cracked down the middle.

“You’re scaring us,” Tony said.  “Stop that.”

“You’re not my friends,” Bruce said.  “Don’t act like I matter to you.”

“That’s not true,” Tony said.  “We’re friends – we’re all friends.”

“I pay _them_ to be here,” Bruce said, nodding to Steve and Sam.  “You’re just here because you want my equipment.”

“Bullshit,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “You think I showed up here to use you?  Your work is inspired!  I waited years to meet you!”

“You’re lying,” Bruce groaned, holding his head.

“I didn’t show up every day for shits and giggles,” Tony said.  “Steve would have bought me equipment if I’d asked him to.  It wasn’t about equipment.  I was here because it was fun to work with you – it means something to work with you.”

Steve kept on guard, watching Bruce for signs of attack.

“Bruce, I need you to calm down, alright?” Tony said.  “You’re scaring us all.”

Bruce sighed and hung his head.

“I didn’t miss your presentation because I wanted to,” Tony said.  “I missed it because Steve and I had a fight and I left to cool off.”

“You fought with Steve?  Why?” Bruce said, his voice strained.  “You never fight with Steve – you love him.”

Tony sighed.  “Well, at the time I didn’t know he loved me back, so I kind of ran.”

“You ran?” Bruce squinted at Tony, looking baffled.

“I snapped at him and I didn’t know what to do after so I left,” Tony said, sheepishly.  “I found Pepper at the Wasp and Ant and she talked me down just like you always do.  She had money to pay off my contract in full and she offered to help me out.”

“Oh, Tony,” Bruce said.

“I wasn’t going to take her up on it, but I was just – I was mad at not being able to do it myself and I told myself it was time to stop being a baby about it.  I needed the money and Pepper was willing to help me out.”

Bruce dropped to his knees and put his head in his hands again.

“I’m sorry I missed your presentation,” Tony said, kneeling beside Bruce.  “I should have been there.”

“It’s – it’s alright,” Bruce said with a sigh.  “I’m the one who told you to take up any offer you could find to pay the damn debt off.”

“Still,” Tony said.  “I’m sorry.  I would have shown up if I’d realized what day it was, debt be damned.  Pepper would have come with him.  She loves watching alchemists at work.”

“It’s alright,” Bruce said.

“Can I make it up to you?” Tony asked.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” Bruce said, looking up.  He looked weary to the bone.  “I think I should take a sabbatical – until I can fix this.”  He chuckled darkly.  “I can’t think with the serum inside me.  Gods, I’ve made myself into a monster.”

“Bruce,” Tony murmured.  “You’re not a monster.”

“I threw a table at Sam earlier,” Bruce said.  “Because he was _sweeping_ too loudly.”  He grimaced.  “The serum I made has power to it, but it’s not the same as Erskine’s, not by a long shot.”

“Is it reversible?” Steve asked.  He set the metal disc down by his feet where he could easily grab it quickly if he had to use it again.  It felt good in his hands, better than a gun ever had.  He wondered if he could keep it.

“I hope so,” Bruce said with a grimace.  He rubbed his temple; one of his arms had deflated down to regular size but the other was still comically large.  “I used the same basic design as Erskine’s work.  We wanted it to last forever but he never wrote down what he used in the end so I’m not sure if mine will fade way or stick around like yours does.”

“So what do we do now?” Sam asked, still holding his broom in front of him for protection.

“I have property outside the city,” Bruce said.  “There’s a workshop there I can use.  It’s not as good as this one but it will do.  It’s well out of the danger zone so there’s no risk of soldiers walking up on me.  It’ll be fine – but I can’t get there alone.  I’ll need to ask for your help again, Sam.”

Sam lowered his broom.

“I know it’s asking a lot,” Bruce said with a sigh.

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Sam said.  “Don’t worry about it.  I can take care of everything.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said.

“Do you need us to come with you?” Tony asked.

“No,” Bruce said.  “It’s better if I’m alone – once Sam gets me set he can come back here and leave me be.  Every little sound grates on my nerves.  I want to break everything, but if I’m the one making the noise it isn’t so bad.”  He smiled softly, his cheeks returning to their regular colour as the green faded away.  “Goodbye, Tony.”

Tony sighed.  “It’s not goodbye,” he said.  “You’ll figure things out and be back here in no time.  And if you can’t, you can always send for us and we’ll come help you.”

Bruce chuckled.  “I wish I had your optimism,” he said.  He groaned as he rose, clutching his head again.  “Go – go home.”  He staggered out of the room and went back into his office, closing the door carefully behind him.

Sam waited till he was sure Bruce was well-and-truly locked away before turning to Tony and clearing his throat.  “I’ll keep his workshop in running order while he’s gone.  You can use it if you need it.  Now one will touch it unless they’re ready to take a chair to the face.”

“The Queen’s Advisor isn’t going to push to reclaim everything?” Steve asked.

“She won’t move on it now that the war has amped up again,” Sam said grimly, shaking his head.  “Besides, the equipment here was bought with Bruce’s money, not hers.  She can’t touch anything until he’s dead and in the ground.”

“The war has amped up?  What’s happened?” Steve asked.  His chest felt tight, as though it was being squeezed.  He had known that the war wouldn’t stay quiet for long, but he hadn’t thought it would get busy again this year.  This was the month Hydra citizens held their most popular celebration, their ode to Viper, and they hadn’t ever struck during celebration time.

“There were reports that came around this morning,” Sam said  “It wasn’t anything detailed, but they sent warnings to all of the alchemists telling us to keep an eye on our work.  Someone has been breaking into Alchemic workshops and stealing plans.  Five other Queen’s Alchemists’ workshops have been hit and no one knows where the Alchemists have gone.  They’ve vanished.”

Tony’s face went as white as milk.  “They’re targeting big projects?”

“They’re hitting anyone with an Alchemic Forge,” Sam said.  His eyes widened.  “Oh – damn.”

Tony ran for the door with Steve right behind him.

 

The streets were empty aside from patrolling soldiers and watchmen out looking for strangers.  They were stopped five times on their way home, and Steve had to talk their way out of being arrested twice by explaining that they were heading home while Tony paced beside him, tugging at his fingers and gnawing at his lip. 

When they finally reached their street they found everything the same as they had left it only hours before.  Their front door was still locked, but there were scratch marks on the lock and door swung open on newly greased hinges.

Inside, the house had been turned upside down.  Nothing was broken but every last trinket and book had been shaken and manhandled to see if any secrets were to be found.  Tony went straight for the Alchemic Forge; Steve followed after him, ready to strike down anyone that might come out from around the corner.

The Alchemic Forge room was a disaster.  Tony’s tools had been tossed about like a child’s toys and what work hadn’t been dismantled was gone.  His notes, and all of the other alchemic texts that had been so neatly sitting on shelves were gone as well.

Tony let out a strangled cry, his shoulders shaking.  “They took it – they took my prototypes.  My _arc reactor_ – they took my arc reactor.  They have my _plans_!”

Steve put a hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry,” he said, softly.  He should have known that someone might want to get their hands on Tony’s work.  This was on him.  He should have done something more to keep the workshop sealed up when they were away.  The damage wasn’t more than an hour or two old!  Someone must have been waiting outside to see them leave.  He should have been more careful!

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and dropped to his knees on the floor.  He let out hissed sobs as he collected the tools beside him.  “This is bad, Steve,” he said.  “This isn’t just bad – it’s a _catastrophe_.  There were things here people haven’t even dreamed of yet, things that could change the war.”

“What did our thief walk away with?” Steve asked.  Tony had been working on so many projects it was hard to keep track of them all, but he knew that there were some things in Tony’s workshop that hadn’t been perfected yet, dangerous things.

“Other than my prototype Arc Reactor, they walked out with a lot of notes and if they decipher those, then we are well and truly screwed – as a country,” Tony said.  “I was designing flying machines.”

Steve frowned.  “What?”

“I was thinking about transportation,” Tony said, smiling sadly.  “I was going to show you the other day but well, we started fighting and I didn’t get to it.”  He sighed and leaned into Steve’s touch as Steve’s hand returned to his shoulder.  “The notes are in code of course.  I didn’t want to leave something that big around without any security other than a locked door.  The drawings that go with everything are coded as well, but with so many prominent alchemists missing, there’s no telling what the thieves are planning to do.”

Steve scowled.  He was used to being able to punch his way out of problems, but this wasn’t something he could fix with a crack to the jaw.  He had no power here, no Howling commandos to count on – no Bucky.  How was he going to help Tony?  He looked down at Tony and smiled.  Tony wasn’t going to give up, and he couldn’t either.  He had been The Captain once.  He could do this.

“Alright.  There’s no undoing the damage,” Tony said, pulling a leather bag out from under the wreckage of one of his broken projects that had been meant to shovel snow.  “What do we do now?”

“We change the locks,” Steve said grimly.  “We repair the damage we can and we find out what else they made off with.  From the looks of things they were very thorough with their peeping.  I’m betting they went through our things upstairs as much as they did down here.  Maybe if we find what’s missing we’ll be able to figure out their plan – assuming their plan wasn’t just to cause chaos.”  He had seen it before on the battlefield; Hydra soldiers would creep in in the dead of night, destroy things of little value and then retreat before they were spotted so they could ruin morale.  If the Queen’s soldiers through it was Hydra, then it was likely that it was them lurking in the shadows.  It irritated him that they had gotten into the city so quietly.  They couldn’t have done this alone.  That was troubling, almost more so than the thefts themselves.  

Tony stood up slowly, rubbing at his knees.  “It’s not a complete loss,” he said.  “I’ve got the parts I need to make a new Arc Reactor, and all my plans are in my head so I haven’t lost more than the paper they were written on.  And besides, it isn’t all bad.  The bastards who stole my work will be in a more than a few nasty surprises.”  His grin was sharp.  “If they don’t catch the problems, their alchemists will be peeling themselves off the walls.”

Steve chuckled.  “Let me guess,” he said.  “You didn’t draw in everything.”

Tony gave Steve a kiss and tucked his bag of tools under his arm.  “Do me a favor, darling.  Check my room to make sure they didn’t make too much of a mess,” he said.  “I’ll clean up down here.”

“Is there anything I should be looking for in particular?” Steve asked.

“Aside from the paperwork Jan gave me from last night?  No.  But I’d rather find out now if they did make off with my underwear or something else creepy like that,” Tony said.  “Most of the stuff I kept up there is replaceable and only a bit of it is sentimental.  It’s no big loss if it vanishes.”

“Alright,” Steve said.  “I’ll give you a shout if I finish up there before you finish down here.”

Tony hummed to himself and rolled up his sleeves.

 

 

Steve frowned at the chaos of Tony’s room.  Someone had been here and tossed the place, but from what he could see the only thing that was actually missing were from the chest Tony had brought with him from the Wasp and Ant.  The album filled with pictures of Howard and Maria Stark had been taken, as had the updated debt papers from Jan.  Why someone had taken personal pictures of Howard Stark and his family was a mystery.  All of the other papers that had belonged to Howard were still tied up and stacked, but the family album was missing.

Tony rapped his knuckles on the door frame before coming in to join Steve in the remains of his once beautifully decorated room.  He whistled.  “They really did a number on the paint job, didn’t they?  I guess they don’t like red.”

“Apparently,” Steve said with a sigh.  It had taken him hours to get the paint just right.  Now he was going to have to do it all over again.

“Did they take anything?” Tony asked.

“They took the papers you got from Jan last night,” Steve said, stil mourning the loss of his perfectly painted walls.

“Those are replaceable,” Tony said with a shrug.  “Jan keeps duplicates of duplicates lying around all the time.”

“Good,” Steve said.  He cleared his throat, not quite sure how to break the news of the stolen pictures.

“What else did they make off with?” Tony asked, frowning at Steve.  “You look like someone took a slice of apple cake out off of your plate.”

Steve sighed.  If someone had stolen pictures of his family, he would have been devastated.  He only had a handful and they were all tucked into his sketchbook.  “Tony,” he murmured, clasping his hands solemnly in front of him.

“Oh,” Tony said.  He sat down on his bed.  “Is it bad?”

“They took the pictures you had of your parents,” Steve said.  “I’m so sorry.”

Tony’s face went carefully blank.  “That’s all?”

“Tony,” Steve said.  He sat down on the bed next to Tony and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in close.

Tony sighed and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “You scared me,” he said.  “I thought you were going to say he made off with something important.”

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Tony’s head.

“There are plenty of worse things to lose,” Tony said, his voice soft.  “I don’t need pictures to remember them.  I’ve got a pretty damn good memory – you know that.”  He smiled crookedly.  “Besides, I know where to get a few of the pictures back.  Friends of friends have copies.”

“That’s good,” Steve said.

“We should go get supplies to reinforce the doors and windows,” Tony said, clearing his throat.  He shrugged off Steve’s hand and hurried to the door.  “We’d better hurry.  The shops might close up because of the break-ins.”

Steve heaved himself up and followed Tony as he took the stairs two at a time.  “You’re sure you want to go now?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” Tony said.  “What’s the point of crying about some lost picture?”  He grabbed his jacket off the coat rack and yanked open the front door, nearly ending up with a fist in the face.  Someone was trying to knock.

“Tony?”

Tony staggered backwards, startled.  “Rhodey?”  He threw himself out the door with a whoop and jumped into the arms of the stranger on the step.

Rhodey let out a laugh and hugged Tony tightly, swinging him in a circle.  “You _idiot_!” he said.  “Why did you open the door without checking if someone was there first?”

Steve hovered in the doorway, not sure if he should intrude.  He could tell from Rhodey’s uniform that the man was a high ranking member of the Queen’s army.  Rhodey’s dark skin was drenched with sweat and his heavy breathing made it clear that this wasn’t a visit he had been making for leisure.  He had come running.

Rhodey set Tony down.  “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said. 

 “When did you come back from the Front?” Tony asked.

“I just got called back,” Rhodey said.  “And do you know what I hear after I step into the Wasp and Ant?  Your stupid ass was sold to some stranger!  Why didn’t you say anything?”

Tony chuckled.  “You don’t have to be worried,” he said.  “You know Jan wouldn’t sell me off to some monster.”

“I know she wouldn’t,” Rhodey grumbled.  “That doesn’t mean I can’t worry.”

“My debt’s paid off,” Tony said with a shrug.  “Pepper helped me out.”

Rhodey grinned and punched Tony’s shoulder.  “She found you and convinced you to take the money at long last, huh?”

Tony glanced over at his shoulder at Steve smiling sheepishly.  “I uh, yeah.”

Steve’s mind felt like it was spinning in circles.  Tony had been able to get help from Pepper before now?  Why had Tony stayed with him if he had had a way out all along?

Tony grabbed Steve’s hand and squeezed it, noticing Steve’s confusion.  “I know – I just – I didn’t want to leave.  You know why,” he said.

Rhodey cocked an eyebrow.  “Is this the Bucky you were seeing?”

Steve flinched.  Bucky?  There was so much they hadn’t talked about yet.

“This is Steve,” Tony said.  “Bucky’s – Bucky died.”

Rhodey’s expression turned grim.  “Oh, Tony,” he said. 

“I didn’t want to talk about it,” Tony said, heaving a sigh.  “I mean it’s not – it’s not alright yet.  Bucky’s dead and that is a thousand different kinds of not right, but I love Steve and being with him is better than I could have ever expected, all things considered.  It’s different now between us – and we both miss Bucky.  We both loved him so it’s not like I’m going to forget about him.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Rhodey said.  “You’ve sent me letters, but you didn’t mention him at all.  I was kind of worried something had happened.”

Tony scowled.  “I send you letters to keep you entertained,” he said.  “I didn’t want to send you a letter that ended with a big fat oh by the way – the guy I love is dead and I’m not in love with another guy.”

Rhodey scowled back at Tony.  “Stubborn ass,” he said.  “I hate when you protect me from bad news.”

“You do the same thing,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. 

“Not this time,” Rhodey said, grimly.  He glanced over his shoulder and motioned for them to step into the house.  He closed the door behind them.  “I’ve been hearing rumors that Hydra agents were going after alchemists this morning and your name came up,” he said.  “Does that mean you finally have your licence?”

Tony shuffled in place and coughed weakly.

“You still don’t have your licence?” Rhodey said with a groan.  “Great.”

“I haven’t had the time,” Tony said.  “Besides, it’s just a test.  It’s not like they let debtors do anything anyway.”

Rhodey put his head in his hands and let out a long, slow, breath.  “Forget the test then,” he said.  “You’re going to the alchemist conference they’re holding in half an hour.  I was told to bring you.”

“Oh?  You didn’t come just to see me?” Tony said with feigned hurt.

Rhodey flicked Tony in the nose.  “It was a happy coincidence,” he said.  “They were supposed to give me leave but with the attack they’ve called everyone in again and they’re planning to sort us out later.”

“Great,” Tony said.  “Just when we’re about to head out to fix the damn doors.  I hate _meetings_.”  He reached around Rhodey and pulled the door open with a grunt before being eased out of the way by Rhodey and pushed back inside.  He glared up at Rhodey, indignantly.  “What?  You think I can’t walk outside?”

“You’re an _alchemist_ in a city that has just been attacked by people who want to take alchemists and their work,” Rhodey growled, his eyes narrowed.  “Do not ‘ _I can’t walk outside_ ’ _me_ , Stark.”

Tony scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.  “ _Steve_ would let me walk outside the door first,” he muttered.

Steve chuckled and wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulder.  “No I wouldn’t,” he said.

Rhodey smiled.  “See?”  He stepped outside and glanced around before motioning for them to follow him outside.

Steve locked the door behind them, calm despite his worry for Tony’s safety.  With Rhodey standing at the end of the steps, they were as safe as they could be, but it still made him wonder if someone was outside watching them, waiting for them to stumble so they could swoop in and steal Tony away.  Before this morning he hadn’t thought he would have to worry about their safety in the city, but clearly a lot more had been happening since he had left the Front than he had known.  It made him uneasy to realize that no one had warned him.

“So where are we headed?” Tony asked as he was flanked down the stairs by Steve and Rhodey.  He looped his arm through Steve’s and kept in step beside him.

“We’re going to the Alchemist’s Guild Hall,” Rhodey said, leading the way.  “Margaret Carter is waiting there to brief everyone.”

Steve’s breath caught in his chest.  Peggy?  He hadn’t seen her since his discharge and he hadn’t kept up with her even though she had sent him a handful of letters.  He hadn’t known what to say to her.  How was he supposed to tell her that he was in love with someone after he had been so deeply in love with Bucky?  At least now he would have a chance to have some closure with her.  There were hundreds of Alchemists registered in the city and they would likely all be bickering and squabbling to have their complaints heard first.  He would have time to figure something out to say to her.

“Alright,” Rhodey said.  “All eyes on the crowd.  We don’t know if there are any Hydra agents still walking around but I don’t want to take any chances.”

“My own special escort?” Tony said, grinning at Rhodey.  “Mother would be so proud.”

Rhodey chuckled.  “I’m sure she would be.  Although I can hear her asking what the hell you did to your hair.”  He patted Tony’s head.  “It was a hell of a lot longer the last time I saw you.”

“I cut it,” Tony said primly.

“You didn’t exactly do it willingly,” Steve said, following along behind Rhodey with Tony tucked discretely beside him, “You blew yourself up first.”

“I did not blow myself up,” Tony said, aghast.  “I was lightly singed!”

Rhodey exchanged a horrified glance with Steve.  “He did what?”

“My hair looks fine!” Tony muttered.  “Besides, haven’t you met alchemists before?  It happens all the time!  We blow ourselves up all the time – I’ll blend right in with the rest of them.”  He squinted up at Steve and smiled.  “Traitor.”

“I thought you said you didn’t blow yourself up?” Rhodey said.

Tony scowled.  “I hate you two.”

 

The Alchemist’s Guild Hall was massive.  It had been built like a university and was spread out over acres of land that the guild had leased from the Crown.  Steve had expected to see it teaming with life but when they were allowed through the front door by the Guild’s bored looking guards he found the hallways empty, the workshops they passed barren and the equipment that remained gathering dust.

“I thought this place had alchemists in it?” Tony said, frowning.

“It does,” Rhodey said.  “Unfortunately the ranks were filled with older gentlemen and women who never bothered to recruit anyone they didn’t like.  Most of the alchemists these days use private workshops, so they don’t keep spaces here for their things.”

“Oh good,” Tony said with a dark laugh.  “I guess my father was right.  They take only the best and brightest.”

Peggy Carter was waiting for them in a small room across from the Grand Auditorium.  There were two men guarding the door, but both were strangers to Rhodey and had to be convinced by Peggy that they were allowed in before they were allowed to pass.  She led them into the room and sat down at the chair she had left, her expression calm but stiff, as though she was expecting a fight to break out at any moment.

Three other alchemists were waiting around the table Peggy had been seated at, and all of them were impatiently tapping their fingers on their arms.  Some looked like they were trying not to look guilty; some looked like they were bored.  All of them wanted to leave. 

 Steve, Rhodey and Tony sat in the three empty seats on the left-hand side of the table.

“You’re late as usual,” Peggy said to Steve.

“Sorry, Peg,” Steve said with a smile.  He shifted his seat until it was closer to Tony’s, determined to get in the way if something happened.  The other alchemists shifted nervously in their seats at the sight of him.

“So – we’re all here,” Peggy said, clearing her throat.  “I’m not going to sugar coat this.  We have a problem and we need to solve this now or lives could be lost.”

“That’s an understatement,” a blond alchemist with a well-maintained goatee that looked suspiciously like Tony’s said with a snort.  His sharp blue eyes seemed more dead than alive as he looked at Tony.  “What are you doing here, Anthony?  I thought you were still keeping beds warm at the Wasp and Ant.”

Tony glared at the blond.  “I was working, Tiberius.  I know – it’s a job and you’ve never had one.”

Tiberius chuckled and leaned back in his chair.  “So you say, and yet here I am, a Guild Alchemist and there you are, a debtor playing family with a washed-up soldier.”

Steve bristled.  “Shut your mouth.”

Tiberius laughed harder.  “Oh dear,” he said between sucked in breaths, “Is that love I hear?  If it is, you’re a foolish man, more foolish than Anthony.”

“Stop wasting my time,” Peggy said, her eyes narrowed.  She snapped her finger, the sound sharp and booming in the small space.  Everyone flinched aside from Rhodey, who seemed to have expected the sound and was lounging in his seat with a tired, grim, smile.

“Do you want us to end up under Hydra’s boot?” Peggy asked, eyes locked with Tiberius.

“Hardly,” Tiberius said with a scowl.  He crossed his arms over his chest and drummed his fingers on his wrist.  “Hydra won’t be able to do anything with the plans they stole from me.

“Oh?  I guess your plans are as useful as you are then,” Tony said with a snort.

Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose.  “If they had told me all I was going to get from you was an argument, I would have sent a babysitter instead of coming myself.”

Steve wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulder.

Tony sighed.  “What they stole from me could bring them more gold then they could ever possibly need,” he said.  “I found a way to revolutionize transportation.”

“Impossible,” the alchemist with mousy brown hair on Tiberius’ right said.  “No untrained alchemist could achieve something like that unless they had a trained alchemist do the work and claimed it as their own.”

“I’m not a liar,” Tony snapped.  “I may not have a fancy piece of paper on my wall in a frame, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of doing my own damned work.  I’m smarter than you are – I’m not going to play pretend with you just to make you feel better about yourself.”

“Oh I see,” the redheaded woman on the brown-haired man’s other side.  “So now Tony Stark is smarter than all of us.  As usual a Stark thinks he’s smarter than everyone.”

“So we have a theft of transportation work,” Peggy said, ignoring the bickering.  “What kind?”

“Aerial,” Tony said.  “They took a battery from me as well, one that can power the flying machines and anything they can adapt it to.  Thankfully my notes are coded and vital steps are missing so it should take them a long time to put anything together – assuming they can figure it out at all.”

“What did they take from you, Tiberius?” Peggy said, scribbling down notes in the book on the table in front of her.

“It’s a machine to manipulate dreams,” Tiberius said.  “It’s unusable in its current form, but the theory is sound and the designs are good.  Provided I get something to power it, it should be quite powerful.”

Peggy scribbled more notes and turned to the next alchemist.  “And you?” she asked.

“I make ordinance,” The red-headed woman said.  “I’m Geraldine, by the way.  I’m sure you’ve heard of my work.”

“I have,” Peggy said.  “Tell me more about the bombs.”

“They’re improved compared to my last design and compared to the ones on the field right now they’re like a bolt of lightning from the gods,” Geraldine said.

Peggy cocked an eyebrow.

“The plans I made for them are coded,” Geraldine continued.  “I doubt that my bombs will be hitting our people any time soon, if at all, but I can give you a brief description on paper if you need to know.”

“That would be very helpful,” Peggy said.  “I know you alchemists are very protective of our creations – I appreciate you sharing even the smallest details.”  She glanced over at the remaining alchemist.  “And yours?  Reid Richards, is it?”

Reed nodded stiffly.  “My research is on portal development and interdimensional travel,” he said.

“Meaning?” Peggy said with a grimace.

“The research is on moving individuals and objects between the realms we know exist but can’t see,” Reid said.  “I really can’t explain it in any other way – if you can’t understand that, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

“Fantastic,” Peggy said, smiling thinly.

“Yes,” Reid said.  “It really is.  I’ve got a basic instruction pamphlet if you’d like to read it – my research is being directly funded but it’s always good to have more investors in on things to share the burden.  It will be large scale once the devices I’ve developed are completed.  My team couldn’t be here with me today, but they will be accompanying me on the trip.”

“Trip?” Peggy said, sharply.  “Where?”

“To another dimension,” Reid said, frowning at Peggy.  “Did I not make that clear?  Maybe the pamphlet is a bad choice.  It requires a very basic level of understanding, but it’s still highly scientific.  If you don’t understand that – as I’m getting from the look on your face – it’s next to worthless.”

“Thank you, Mr. Richards,” Peggy said, stiffly.  “You can deliver the pamphlet to me at your leisure.  I’ve dealt with Alchemists for a large portion of my career and I’m capable of reading their work, as rudimentary as it is.”

“My work is already filed with the council,” Reid said.  “I don’t understand why I’m here.  The details are already with the Queen’s advisors.”

“Is the pamphlet with them?” Peggy asked.

“Yes,” Reid said.

“Good.  Then stop talking.  I’ll get it from the advisors,” Peggy said.  She closed her notebook.  “Now, assuming you’ve all given me what details you’re comfortable with – I’m guessing the break-ins were thorough and masked to look like nothing had happened at least on the main doors?”

Everyone in the room nodded.

“Alright,” Peggy said.  “Then assuming you’ve left out nothing, you may feel free to leave.”

Tony stood up.

“Not you, Mr. Stark,” Peggy said.

Geraldine chuckled.  “Figures,” she said.

Tiberius rose regally, pushing his chair back in and put a hand on Geraldine’s shoulders, guiding her to the door.  “Let’s get a drink.  I have a feeling we could all use one.”

Reid stood up stiffly.  “I don’t need a drink.”

“I wasn’t asking you to join us,” Tiberius said icily.

Tony watched as the other alchemist departed, frowning.  “I don’t understand why you need me here,” he said.  “I’m not lying about anything.”

Peggy clasped her hands in front of her.  “I’m very aware that you weren’t lying, Mr. Stark.  I’ve asked you to stay behind because this information is not to leave this room.”

Steve leaned forward in his seat.  If Peggy had news for them, then it was something big.  She didn’t keep secrets unless she absolutely had to, and if he was right, she had heard something from the guards and soldiers who had investigated the break ins.  What had happened?

“Obadiah Stane was seen visiting your house a week ago,” Peggy said.

Steve pursed his lips.  This was news to him.  He hadn’t thought Stane had known where Tony had gone; Jan wouldn’t have told the bastard, so how had he figured it out?

“He dropped by unannounced to rub my supposedly awful life in my face,” Tony said.  “He didn’t go anywhere past the foyer.  He gave me a handful of rude comments about how my mother would roll over in her grave to see me in rags and then took at shot at Steve’s workmanship when he saw that Steve was doing all the repairs himself.  He didn’t make any threats or I would have said something.”

“And you never saw him around again?” Peggy asked.

“I figured he was poking around and satisfied with what he found,” Tony said.  “No.  I didn’t see him again.  If I did, I’d have told Steve and he’d have started digging a trench around the house to keep the bastard out.”

Peggy leaned against the table on her elbows.  “I’m afraid you were wrong, Mr. Stark.  Obadiah Stane was seen earlier this morning talking with two men near your house.  We now know those two men have very strong ties to Hydra.”

Rhodey grimaced.  “Great.  So they were snooping around after all.”

Steve gnawed on his lower lip.  How many Hydra agents had been around their house in the weeks since he had moved in to Bucky’s house?  Had they been tracking him?  Or had they been looking for Tony?  It was too much of a coincidence to think that they had been there at random.  Someone had directed them and if Peggy was right, Stane knew something.

“You’re sure?” Tony asked, eyes narrowed.  “Shit.  I was sure he was just full of hot air – trying to out-think his competitors.”

“Have you given him access to any of your blueprints in the past?” Peggy asked.  “I know he visited you quite regularly at the Wasp and Ant.”

Tony grimaced.  “Don’t remind me,” he said.  “I feel dirty just thinking about it.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peggy said.  “Answer the question.”

“Yes,” Tony said, sullenly.  “Now that you mention it, he has had access to quite a few blueprints over the years.”  He glanced over at Steve, swallowing hard and then quickly looked away.  “I was younger and he was a nice guy back then.”

“No one is blaming you for what happened,” Steve said, softly.  “He took advantage of you.”

“I know,” Tony muttered.  “I just wish I’d known how much of a piece of crap he was.  I gave him work that was my father’s – he said it was company work and that he had lost his copies.  I mean, I didn’t hand him _completed_ documents.  The files were all from Howard’s personal collection so they weren’t fully written out.  I used to think it was because he forgot about what he was doing once he got it down on paper, but I guess he was just doing what I do.  He was putting everything into code too.  I don’t know how much Obadiah got out of it though.  No one could break those codes but me and he never asked me to do that.”

“Alright,” Peggy said.  “Thank you for telling me.  I know it must be difficult for you having to talk about what happened between the two of you.”

Tony shuddered and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck.  “Is that all you need?”

“Yes,” Peggy said.  “We have lists of everything Howard Stark left to you and we know which weapons fell into Obadiah Stane’s hands.  The Queen ordered us to keep an eye on him and Stane Corporation.”

“So you didn’t really need me to tell you, did you?” Tony said with a bitter scowl.

“It’s better to ask then not ask and find out we’re in even more trouble than we already are,” Peggy said.

“That’s not all of it,” Tony said.

“It’s not?” Peggy frowned.

“He paid me to make him something once when I was thirteen,” Tony said.  “You probably don’t know about that one.  It was all done on bar napkins and in grease pencil.  I didn’t even keep a copy of them when I was finished.”

Peggy opened her notebook again and pursed her lips, reading through what she had written there.  “May I have the details on that particular invention?” she asked with a sigh.

“It’s a device that uses runes to create sound.  It causes paralysis,” Tony said.  “It was my first non-lethal weapon.”

“You’ve built others?” Peggy asked.

“I’ve improved on the ones Howard did.  I haven’t built any of my own,” Tony said with a shrug.  Obadiah used to commission me to improve the weapons Howard had made with him.  He always said it was a contractual obligation that the Stark family help him with his work.  He used to talk about letting the debt go when I’d helped him enough.”

“I believe I’ve seen those modifications,” Peggy said, scribbling in her notebook.  “We’ve had a wave of Stark Tech appear on the black market for the past few years and most of it was from rescued Hydra technology coming back from the battlefield.  Our soldiers have had that information passed on to them and have received the upgrades as well, so don’t feel too badly about it.  We do our jobs just as well as you do yours, Mr. Stark.”

“Good,” Tony said.

“I haven’t seen or heard anything about a device you’ve mentioned,” Peggy said.  “I’m going to have to assume that he’s kept that one for himself if he did figure out how to produce it, or he’s handed them out only to a select few.”  She tapped her pencil against her lower lip.  “You’d think he’d have asked you to develop something larger for him.  That kind of technology would make it far easier to take trenches, even if the effects don’t kill.”

Steve nodded, feeling queasy.  “It would make things damn easier.  Soldiers wouldn’t even be able to fight back,” he said.

Tony put his head in his hands.

“Enough guilt,” Mr. Stark,” Peggy said, snapping her fingers at Tony.

Tony looked up, startled.

“Is that all that Stane has?” Peggy asked, her voice deadly calm.

“As far as I know, yes,” Tony said.

“Good,” Peggy said.  “We can plan for the worst then, now that we’ve cleared that up.”

“You didn’t seem too concerned about any of the other alchemists,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They are all underachievers,” Peggy said, smiling thinly.  “We’ve had their workplaces bugged and monitored for years.  Nothing they do goes on without our say-so.  That’s why I didn’t ask for details.  We already have them.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Tony muttered.  “Spying on our own people.”

“I’m afraid that’s the price you pay in war, Mr. Stark,” Peggy said.  She set her pen down.  “This cannot leave this room.”

Steve, Rhodey and Tony exchanged looks and then nodded in unison.

“Thank you,” Peggy said.  “I trust that you understand that if anything does leave his room and someone finds out about it, we will know who did the talking and you will be punished accordingly.”

Tony sighed and slumped in his chair.

Rhodey sat up straighter.  “Understood,” he said.

Steve nodded.  “Whatever you say, Peg.”

“Obadiah Stane has been a plague in our city for quite some time,” Peggy said.  “He has been recruiting Alchemists and engineers ever since he took control of the company from Howard Stark.  It’s common knowledge that he was trying to replace the work Howard Stark did for him, and he’s never fully recovered from the loss of their partnership, although his coffers grew quite a bit heavier once he made contact with Tony at the Wasp and Ant.”

Tony scowled.  “Bastard.”

“We’ve watched his progress,” Peggy said.  “The Queen couldn’t leave one of her citizens with that much power wandering around unsupervised.  Our spies noticed that every few months an alchemist would vanish from his buildings, only to return later as if nothing had happened.  We assumed that he was bringing them to an out-of-city retreat but we could never pinpoint where they were going, when they were leaving or when they returned even with one of our most highly regarded spies on him at all times.  We’ve searched all of the property he owns outside the city and found nothing suspicious.  For all we knew, he was simply not a part of whatever it was that was going on.”

“What do you need us to do?” Steve asked.

“I don’t need you to anything other than remain vigilant,” Peggy said.  “Stane has what he’s been after, or else he wouldn’t have disappeared on us so quickly.”

“Do you think he’s capable of decoding anything?” Tony asked.

“He’s got far too many alchemists under his control for my liking, but I don’t know if the ones he’s collected are smart enough to break through work like yours.  I’d like to think no, but I always expect the worst,” Peggy said.

“If they can’t get Tony’s work unravel, they’ll come for him,” Rhodey said through gritted teeth.  “They’re not likely to wait now that they’ve struck.  It’ll be too easy to get caught unless they act fast.”

“That’s why we brought the alchemists we worried about here.  Soldiers have been to their homes and have been put on protective details,” Peggy said, calmly.  “With any luck, Stane will keep his distance until his alchemists have worked on the stolen plans – I expect it to take a few weeks if not longer before we see him again.”

“Good,” Steve growled.  No one was going to lay a finger on Tony – He would kill anyone who tried.

“As it stands, we’re worried most about Geraldine’s work and Stark’s,” Peggy said.  “The both of you will have to have escorts at all times, although I’m fairly certain you were going to have one anyway, Mr. Stark.”

Steve smiled grimly.  “Of course,” he said.

“You’re not going to be able to reassign me,” Rhodey said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “I’m on Tony’s escort – Me and Steve.  That’s all we’ll need.”

“You’re sure?” Peggy said, cocking an eyebrow.

“The Captain and I will be more than enough,” Rhodey said, flatly.

“What makes you think Stane won’t come for Steve?” Tony said with a grimace.  “He told me once that he’d come for Bucky if I made him mad.”

“I see,” Peggy said, frowning.  “I suppose you’re in luck then.  Steve is damn near indestructible.”

Steve smiled softly.  “I wouldn’t say that, but it’ll take a lot to keep me down,” he said.  He squeezed Tony’s shoulder, needing to touch him, wishing he could do something more to reassure Tony that he would be fine if Stane did try something.  “It’ll be alright,” he said.

Tony sighed.  “Yeah – I know.  It’ll be alright,” he said.  “One way or another, it’ll be alright.”

“It won’t be easy, Mr. Stark.  This isn’t a parlor game.  Stane won’t be toying with you if he does choose to come for you – if he does, he’ll strike hard and fast.  He is Hydra at the core, even if he is pretending to be otherwise,” Peggy warned.  “He has hitmen at his control, assassins of the highest calibre who will stop at nothing to get their job done.  We’ve heard tales of Hydra’s Winter Soldiers, and we’ve yet to catch one in the act.  We have, however, found their targets and the mess they can make when they’re angry is frighteningly vicious.”

“Don’t worry,” Rhodey said.  “I’ll keep an eye on both of their stubborn asses.”

“Good,” Peggy said with a stiff nod.  “Be prepared for my soldiers to knock on your door to check up o you.”

“Sure, Peg,” Steve said.  “Just make sure your side knows to knock.  Anyone busting in is going to get their sorry butt thrown out into the street.”

“Noted,” Peggy said.  She smiled at Steve, the look sad and pleased at the same time.  She had looked at him like that before, the last time being when she had said goodbye to him at the train station as he had been heading home.  “I’m glad you’re doing well, Steve.”

“Me too,” Steve said. “I guess I owe you and Bucky both an apology, huh?”

“You don’t owe us anything,” Peggy said.  “Staying alive would be a lovely gift of thanks.”

Tony looped an arm around Steve’s waist.  “Don’t worry,” he said.  “I’ll keep him safe.”

Rhodey chuckled.  “I’ll help too,” he said.  “You can handle the cuddling part – I’ll deal with the scary guys with guns.”

“Deal,” Tony said with a grin.

Peggy smirked at Steve.  “Oh, dear,” she said.  “I didn’t realize you two were so _close_.”

Steve smiled, his cheeks alight.

“Bucky would be happy to see you smiling again,” Peggy said.  She reached out hesitantly and put her hand on Steve’s.  “Take care of yourself, Rogers.”

“I will,” Steve promised.

“And take care of everyone else while you’re at it,” Peggy said.  “I don’t want to have to fill out any more paperwork.”

“I’m not in the army any more, Peg,” Steve said.  “You probably won’t have to do any paperwork about me.  I’ve heard you have a new Captain to keep out of trouble.”

Peggy groaned and put her head in her hands.  “Don’t remind me.”  She pulled her pocket watch from her pocket and frowned at it in displeasure.  “You’d better head home if you plan to get any repairs done to your place.  My soldiers will be keeping the streets clear – do try not to be out after dark.”

“We won’t,” Steve said, standing up.  “Thanks again.”

“Not a problem,” Peggy said, putting her notebook in the bag she had sitting on the floor beside her feet.  “And if you have any questions or you see anything suspicious just come here and I’ll find you.”

“Alright,” Steve said.

“And please,” Peggy said, eyes locked with Tony, “Try not to get yourself kidnapped.  I’d rather not have to clean up the mess Steve will make when he rampages through town looking for you.”

“Right,” Tony said, laughing.  “I’ll try not to make you fill out any paperwork.”

“If you plan on leaving the city, let me know,” Peggy said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.  “I don’t want to have to hear about it through the grapevine of terrified soldiers as they panic because they’ve lost the original Captain.”

Steve gave Peggy a sharp salute.  “We’ll keep in touch,” he said.

“You’d better,” Peggy muttered.

 

 

Rhodey set himself up in their living room when they got home with their supplies.  He then set about helping Steve reinforce the doors and windows while Tony sorted through the mess in his workshop.  The work went fast, and by the time Peggy’s soldiers checked in on them, they were almost finished.  Bucky’s grandfather had put plenty of security into the house when he had installed his Alchemic Forge, and there weren’t many points of entrance that weren’t already ready to keep unwanted visitors out.  Stane’s thieves had come in through the front door; they could tell because they hadn’t seen a single mark on any of the windowframes or the back door. 

Rhodey and Steve made short work of fixing the front door, bracing it with beams they had scavenged from the basement.  Neither wanted to be locked inside the building, but the beams blocking the entranceway would buy them time to escape through another route if they had to flee.

Rhodey whistled when they were done.  “I’d say we’re safe for tonight,” he said.

“Do you think they’ll try and come back?” Steve asked.

“Not tonight,” Rhodey said.  “I’m pretty sure they’re going to be keeping to themselves now that they’ve got so many notes and prototypes to muck around with.  I’m betting we won’t see them for a while, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”  He gave the door a pat.  “I’m just glad we got everything done before dark.  I wouldn’t want to have to do any repairs outside tonight, not with so many people on edge.  We’d get shot at, I’m betting.  That neighbor of yours seems like a nervous fellow.”

“That’s because the poor bastard’s had to put up with explosions and the fire brigade showing up at all hours of the day,” Steve said with a laugh.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Rhodey said with a groan.

“I’m joking,” Steve said, patting Rhodey’s shoulder.  “The fire brigade only showed up once.”

Rhodey groaned harder.  “He’s not going to want to leave here, is he?  He’s sunk his claws into that damned alchemic forge and he’s going to fight us to the death if we ask him to leave for somewhere safer.”

“We haven’t exactly _asked_ him to leave yet,” Steve said, dryly.

“We don’t need to,” Rhodey muttered.  “He knows we might have to go at the drop of a hat.  He’s used to that kind of thing.”

“Oh?”  Steve frowned.  Tony hadn’t said anything about being forced to leave anywhere aside from his home as a child and then the Wasp and Ant.

“He used to sneak into a house with an Alchemic Forge a few blocks away from the Wasp and Ant,” Rhodey said.  “He got caught a few times.  That’s how we met.”  He grinned at Steve.  “My dad had to escort him back to Janet Van Dyne to the absolute horror of my mother.  She was furious that Tony had been tinkering with her Forge – but not so mad that she didn’t let me invite him back later.”

“I didn’t know he’d used a forge before he got here,” Steve said, softly.

“Oh, he didn’t really use it.  Poor guy was too damn short to reach the actual Forge,” Rhodey said with a chuckle.  “He got really good at cleaning one though.”  He sighed and shook his head, chaffing his hands together.  “Speaking of cleaning, you’d probably go get him before he decides to rebuild the entire room from scratch.”

“You’re probably right,” Steve said with a grimace.  Tony was very good at letting work take over, and if they didn’t stop him and make him rest he’d likely rebuild the prototype he had lost before they could get him to go to bed for the night.

“Maybe – give him a few more minutes,” Rhodey said with a hum, glancing down the hallway that led to the Forge.  “You should do a sweep of your things.  If they stole from Tony, it’s likely they went through and swiped something from you.”

Steve grimaced.  The only thing he had that was worth anything was the photo album and the letter that Jan had given him to hand over to Tony.  He didn’t want either of those things to go missing, but if they were gone he needed to know.

“I’ll keep an eye on things down here and make us some dinner,” Rhodey said.  He cracked his knuckles and then rubbed his hands together again.  “I haven’t cooked anything in a long time other than beans,” he said.  “Damn I’ve missed having a proper kitchen.”

Steve sighed.  “Are you sure?”

“If you stay down here I’m going to spit in your food,” Rhodey said with a crooked grin.  He pointed up the stairs to Steve’s room.  “Go clean your room, Mr.”

 

Steve sorted through his things slowly, worried that if he rushed he might miss something.  From what he could see everything was exactly where he had left it, but a few things had been stacked in the wrong order.  It was strange that the thieves had gone through Tony’s room like a hurricane and then left his almost the same as he had left them.  Why was his navy blue shirt missing?  It had been in the pile on the left and he knew that Tony hadn’t made off with it yet so where had it gone?  Was there some kind of rule amongst Hydra thieves that they had to take a shirt from everyone they looted?

He moved his clothes out of his way and pulled his sketchbooks out from their box under his bed.  He had stashed the letter Jan had given him amongst the pages in his oldest sketchbook along with the envelope that held his copy of Bucky’s will.  He flipped through the pages and flinched when he saw that someone had torn out his earliest pictures.

Why would a Hydra agent steal something like that?  It wasn’t like he had been sketching out blueprints like Tony, or mapping out detailed locations for some commanding officers.  All of the pictures that had been stolen had been drawn when he was still a _boy_ – they were sketches of his old home, of his and Bucky’s cat.  The pictures had been irreplaceable.

Bucky’s will was untouched.  It was still folded neatly and inside it, hidden between the pages of jargon, was the envelope Jan had given him for Tony.  The envelope looked the same as it had the day Jan had handed it to him, with not even a corner crinkled.  Steve rolled the envelope over in his hands, inspecting it.  Jan had told him to give it to Tony when the time was right, but she had never specified when that might exactly be.  Was this the right time?  Jan had seemed to think he would know what to do but he wasn’t so sure he had the ability to predict when Tony would need to read something he didn’t even know about.

Tony cleared his throat.  He was perched in the doorway, a mug of something steaming in his hand.  There was grease and dust smeared under his eyes and ash matted in his beard and hair but it didn’t seem to bother him.  “I take it our thief didn’t get everything?” he asked, nodding to the envelope.

Steve sighed.

“What did they take?” Tony drifted into the room, pausing to chug his drink so he could set it down on the dresser beside a stack of Steve’s clean shirts.  He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned against him.

“Whoever it was made off with some of my clothing and a handful of drawings,” Steve said with a growl.

“Important drawings?” Tony asked.  “Or dirty ones that shouldn’t have seen the light of day?”  He leered at Steve, waggling his eyebrows until Steve wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into a hug.  “Oh,” he said.  “Important ones.  Crap.”

“They’re not replaceable, but I can live without them,” Steve said.  “They were from memory.  I guess I can try drawing them again when I have time.”

Tony kissed Steve gently.  “I wish you didn’t have to do that,” he said.  “When we find the jerks who did it, I’m going to kick their asses for you.”

Steve chuckled and kissed Tony back.  “That’s very sweet of you,” he murmured.

“What’s this then?” Tony asked, leaning out of reach so he could snatch the envelope from Steve’s loosened grasp.  “Oh.  It’s Mama’s letter.”

“You know what’s inside?” Steve asked.

“Jan thinks I don’t know about Mama’s letter,” Tony said.  “I snuck into her room when I was sixteen and she was busy downstairs working.”  He chuckled.  “I was a little shit.  I shouldn’t have done it but I knew Mama wouldn’t have died without leaving me something – she was always sending me letters when I was away at school, or when she and Howard sent me on their pretend vacations so I wouldn’t have to see him arguing with his debt collectors about all the stupid things he had bought instead of paying them back.”  He leaned heavily against Steve, tucking himself under Steve’s arm.  “I’ve got her letter memorized.”

Steve smiled down at Tony.  “I’m guessing you glued the envelope shut,” he said.

“Of course,” Tony said, primly.  “Jan’s mean when she finds out you’ve been snooping, even if it’s for information that belongs to you.  Last time she caught me she made me clean the bar with a toothbrush.  I had pruney hands for a week.”

“When did that happen?” Steve asked, curious.  He hadn’t met Jan often but he couldn’t see her being cruel to a child, even if that child had been snooping through her things.

“Oh that was two weeks before you brought me home,” Tony said with a crooked grin.

Steve let out a barked laugh.  “What did you do?”

“I snuck away from work to go look at the Stane Expo’s opening night,” Tony said.  “It was not worth it, by the way.  It turned out to be an absolute waste of time – everything was half-functional at best, and even though he didn’t spot me I got hit on by at least ten of his bodyguards all while they should have been working.”  He flipped the envelope over again and hummed softly, feeling his way along the folded flap.  “I don’t know if I should bother opening it.  I know what’s inside, after all – it seems just as good sealed as it does open.”  He sighed.  “Fuck it.”  He tore the envelope open with a precision strike, rending the paper fold at the top in two.  He frowned down at the folded papers as he read through them, mumbling silently.

Steve closed his sketchbook.  Part of him wanted to sketch Tony as he sat there, lost in thought, but his pencils were still in a box under his bed and he didn’t want to ruin the mood by going to look for them.  It wasn’t often that he saw Tony like this, vulnerable and still.  Tony was always confidant and moving; he rarely slowed down for anything unless it was to pick up something he had dropped while hurrying off to finish something.

“This isn’t my mother’s letter,” Tony said, quietly.

Steve frowned.  “It isn’t?”

“It’s a bunch of papers from my father’s private files and a deed to a building in the countryside with my name on it,” Tony said.  “They’re transfer papers – from Jan to me.”

“She left you a gift?” Steve asked.  “That’s kind of her.”

“It’s for a building up in the mountains,” Tony said with a snort.  “I don’t even know if the place is still standing up there – it’s probably rotted away, with my luck.”  He laughed bitterly.  “Leave it to Jan to have put in a super-secret building in the middle of nowhere.  Maybe this is her way of punishing me for snooping after all.”

“I wouldn’t say your luck is all bad,” Steve said, kissing Tony’s cheek.

Tony sighed wearily and kissed Steve on the chin when he pulled away.  “I suppose it’s not all that bad,” he conceded. 

“What do you want to do now?” Steve asked.

“Well, Rhodey’s downstairs so I don’t think we can fool around,” Tony mused.

Steve chuckled.  “I meant about the property,” he said, stroking Tony’s cheek.  “Do you want to go take a look at it?”

“You just want me away from war,” Tony muttered.

“You’d rather be here if someone decides to attack?” Steve said with a sigh.

“No,” Tony said.  “But I don’t want to run.”

“It wouldn’t be running,” Steve said.  “Think of it as a scouting mission.  We’re looking for a potential place to go where we’re out of harm’s way and you can work in peace.”

“Steve,” Tony said.  “If they figure out how to build my arc reactor and my flying machines then there will be no one here to stop them.”  He flipped through the papers again and stared at them, mouth agape.

“What?” Steve leaned closer, peering down at Tony’s hands.

“Jan left me a note,” Tony said with a near hysterical laugh.  “It says she was stockpiling supplies for me in her mystery cabin.”  He put his head in his hands after handing Steve the note.

Steve read it aloud.  “Dear Tony,” he said.  “I know you’re going to become this century’s most beautiful and talented Alchemic Engineer.  This was supposed to be the letter your mother left you, but as you’ve already read that one (you brat), I’ve decided to give you a different letter so you’ll have something new to read.  I know that things haven’t been fair for you, Tony.  I would have kept you from Stane and Hammer’s sight if I could have, but hiding you away would have made them suspicious and if I had told them that you had died – changed your name or done something else drastic, the vultures would have swooped in and laid claim to your father’s blueprints even if he did sign all of the remaining ones over to you and by proxy, me.  Everything in the cabin is yours – and so is the top of the line Alchemic Forge in it.  Call it a thank you for all the years you’ve spent making the Wasp and Ant the most profitable brothel in all of the Queen’s City – yours sincerely, Janet Van Dyne.”

Tony put his head in hands. 

Steve could tell that he was crying, even though he wasn’t making a sound.  He wrapped his arms around Tony and held him close, smiling at Jan’s letter.  This was a fine gift, one Tony would cherish and make good use of once they found it.  Jan was generous and he was sure that once they arrived they would find it loaded up with anything and everything they could ever need.

Tony wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat.  “Oh gods,” he said.  “I was hoping I wouldn’t cry again today but there I go.”  He leaned up and kissed Steve on the cheek, looping his arms around Steve’s neck.  “I love that you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?” Steve said.  “Everyone deserves a good cry.”

Tony laughed and kissed Steve again.  He slid his legs around Steve’s waist and sat there on his lap, leaning against him, his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Do you want to drop by the Wasp and Ant and thank her?” Steve asked.

“If I do, she’ll probably hug me and smack me in the side of the head,” Tony said dryly.  “She has connections with damn near everyone in the city.  She probably knows more about the theft than we do.”

“What would you like to do?” Steve asked.

“I need to build my armor,” Tony said, heaving a sigh.  “And unless we have hidden supplies I don’t know about in our basement that I can use, I can’t do that here.”

“Do you think Bruce’s workshop will have anything you’ll need?  We can head over there first thing in the morning and check,” Steve said.

“It’s unlikely he’ll still have enough for me to build anything more than a gauntlet or two,” Tony said.  “I’ve seen his supplies, and he doesn’t have nearly enough metal to start the initial build, let alone finish it.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind if we go pick up what you need,” Steve said.  “Even if it’s not enough to finish your work.”

“You do realize that we’ll be essentially forced to hitch you up to a cart if we do that, don’t you?” Tony mumbled into Steve’s chest. 

“I don’t mind,” Steve said, gravely.  “I’m used to being used as a work horse.”

“Even if you have to haul me, Rhodey and all of our things up a mountain?” Tony asked.

“Even if I have to haul you, Rhodey and all of our things up the mountain,” Steve said.  “I’ll carry you if you need me to.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony said.

“For what?” Steve asked, carding his fingers through Tony’s hair.

“I should have protected my work better,” Tony muttered, his voice trailing off.  He was falling asleep, Steve realized, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You did protect your work,” Steve said, softly.  “You couldn’t have known Stane was going to do something like this.  No one said a word to you about it – no one said a word about the possibility of something like this ever happening.” 

“I should have been more careful,” Tony mumbled, his eyelids drooping.

“You did your best,” Steve insisted.  He lifted Tony up and arranged him on the bed, tugging the blankets up around him when he was lying comfortably on his side.

“Steve?” Tony said as Steve rose.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Steve said.

“I’ll fix this,” Tony said.  “I promise.”

“Ok,” Steve said.  “I’ll help you, if that’s alright.”

“Ok,” Tony mumbled.  “We should go to Jan’s cabin – my cabin.”

Steve leaned down and pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead.  “Get some sleep,” he said.  “I’ll make arrangements with Rhodey so we can leave in the morning.”

Tony let out a booming snore.

Steve chuckled and snuck from his bedroom, closing the door gently behind him.

 

 

Rhodey arranged to have a covered wagon and a car brought around to their front door the next morning after letting the guards know what was going on.  He hired the car and wagon personally to keep Steve’s name from the forms needed to rent them and only reluctantly accepted money for them after Steve bartered him down to paying half instead of all of it.  When the vehicles arrived the next morning, they found Pepper sitting in the passenger seat and a scowling red-head in the driver’s seat.

Tony, bundled up in a jacket pilfered from Steve’s closet, hurried down the steps to greet Pepper.  “What’s going on?” he asked, leaning against the driver’s side door.  “Why are you here?”

“This is Stark,” the red-head said gruffly, looking unimpressed.  She looked Tony over and turned to Pepper sighing.  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure,” Pepper said, firmly.  “And yes, this is Tony.  Really – he’s fine.  You didn’t have to drive us over.”

“Oh, but I did,” the red-head said, smiling thinly.  She climbed out of the car and took Tony by the hand, shaking his, her grip so firm he grimaced.  “I’m sure you recognize me, Mr. Stark.  I’m Natasha Romanoff.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tony said, looking around Natasha at Pepper.  “I though Rhodey ordered a car through a service?  How did you two get in it?”

“Oh, he did,” Natasha said.  “I happen to know the woman he ordered it from and offered to do her a favor by dropping it off.”

Rhodey hurried down the steps with Steve at his heels.  “I ordered a car, not an assassin,” he said with a scowl.  “You’re an excellent driver, but we don’t exactly have the room for everyone if Pepper’s insisting on coming along.”

“Pepper’s not coming along,” Tony said with a frown.  “Why would she be coming?”

“Because I am,” Pepper said, her arms crossed over her chest.  “You won’t get me out of this car unless you drag me out kicking and screaming.”

“How very lady-like,” Tony said with a snort.  “Does that mean you’re bringing your fiancé with us?”

Natasha scowled darkly.  “Sadly I can’t attend your little road trip out into the middle of nowhere,” she said.  “So I had to settle for showing up and telling you about all the nasty, painful things I’ll do to you if something happens to her.”

“Right,” Rhodey said.  “I’m guessing a shovel is involved.”

“When I’m done with you, there won’t be enough for a shovel,” Natasha said, smiling sweetly.

Steve set the bags he had been carrying down on the cobblestones.  “I guess we’re going to have to make sure nothing happens to her then,” he said.  He pursed his lips as he tried to plan out how to arrange their luggage in the car now that they had even less space than before.  They hadn’t even picked up the scraps from Banner’s workshop yet, and already the car would be riding low.

“Pepper isn’t coming,” Tony said with a groan.  “We can’t bring everyone with us.”

“I just funded your work,” Pepper said, squinting at Tony.  “I’m coming with you.”

Tony groaned and put his head in his hands.

“You said you’d build us suits,” Pepper said.  “You can’t do that if we’re not there with you.”

“I didn’t mean I’d build you one right _now_ ,” Tony grumbled.

“Well, I’m going to keep an eye on you either way,” Pepper said.  “I’m not going to let you go off on some grand adventure without me.”

“So it’s settled then,” Rhodey said.  He held his hand out to Natasha.  “We’ll take good care of Pepper – don’t worry.”

“You’d better,” Natasha said, giving Rhodey’s hand a shake that made him wince.  She picked up Rhodey’s bag and tossed it unceremoniously through the window into the back seat.  “Enough chatter.  Pepper is going with you because it’ll be safest for her outside of the city.  In exchange, I will keep an eye on your house while you’re gone so Hydra and whoever else goes poking around won’t ransack it while you’re gone.”

Steve smiled.  “That’s very kind of you,” he said.  “We appreciate the help.”

Natasha frowned at Steve, her hands shifting to her hips.  “When Pepper said Stark had taken up with The Captain, I assumed you’d be well – rude,” she said.  “I suppose this is a pleasant surprise.”  She yanked open the passenger side door and motioned for them to get inside.  “If someone asks you why you’re at Banner’s workshop, just tell them that he asked you to take some things up to his house in the country.  The roads all lead to the same place out there, and someone will have to follow you for hours to figure out that you’re not going there.  Hopefully no one will be persistent enough to rack you, but if they are that road is the best place to spot them.”

“Alright,” Steve said.  He helped Tony into the back seat and piled their luggage up in the remaining space beneath Tony’s feet.  “We’ll be careful.”

“Make sure you take food,” Natasha said.  “Wasp isn’t always good at giving details when she’s made a plan.  She gets lazy with the instructions.”  She motioned for Steve to get into the car beside Tony and shut the door behind him.  “Go – now.  Before I change my mind and climb in there with you.”

Rhodey got into the driver’s seat and carefully closed the door behind him.  “Did you want to meet us when we’re back?” he asked as he carefully turned the key in the ignition and started the car up.  “We don’t know when we’ll be in the city next but we can try and send a message ahead if you’d like.”

“Don’t bother,” Natasha said.  “I’ll find you.”  She walked around the car and kissed Pepper, cupping her face gently.  “Don’t die out there,” she said.

“I won’t,” Pepper promised.

Natasha nodded once to Rhodey and walked away, her head held high as she vanished into the crowd of workers heading off for their morning shift.

The car’s engine let out a loud growl as Rhodey pulled them out into the street.

Tony scowled.  “I hate bad designs,” he said.  “I’m going to design a better one when I’m done with my suit.”

“Feel free,” Rhodey said with a grimace.  “I’ll be the first one to buy one when my hearing comes back.”

 

 

Tony led the way inside Banner’s workshop and picked out the supplies he would need, using Steve as his muscle while Rhodey and Pepper remained with the car.  He sighed at the remains of Banner’s workshop and shook his head at the damage that had been done since they had been in last.  Bruce had smashed a few more tables and while Sam had likely been the one to clean things up, there were still splinters on the floor.  Most of the tools were gone, packed up to go with Bruce to the country, but there was still enough left to be of use.

Steve grinned, despite their grim surroundings.  The metal disc he had used the day before was sitting on the one remaining table.  He flipped it over and chuckled when he saw that someone had given it handles.  The note stuck to it said that it was a gift for him, and that when he came back they could paint it with something he liked.  

“I see someone left you a gift,” Tony said, picking through the last of Bruce’s tools.  “That was nice of them.”

“It was,” Steve said, slipping his arm through the disc’s straps.  “It’ll make a good shield.”

“It already was a good shield,” Tony said with a smirk.  “But it’s nice to see they gave it some handles.  It’ll be more useful now that you don’t need to hold onto the edges for dear life.”  He heaved a sigh and shook his head at the pile of broken tools he had been going through.  “This is downright depressing.”

“Is there anything else here you can use?” Steve asked.

“There are a few scraps of metal over there that I can repurpose, but it’s a lot less than I was expecting,” Tony said, pursing his lips.  “Let’s get you loaded up.  I don’t like Rhodey and Pepper waiting out there alone.”

Steve set the shield down and picked up a wooden box that had been left thoughtfully by the wall.  He carried it over as Tony picked through things and waited patiently for everything to be loaded up.  When they were finished, he set his new shield on top of the pile.  Having it felt right; it was the best weapon he’d had, and there was no way he was going to leave it behind.  He would need to practice to make the most of it, but he wasn’t worried.  He would have plenty of time to get better with it.

Steve carried the box of supplies outside with Tony behind him.  He waited till Tony had locked up before hurrying over to the car with Tony at his side.

Rhodey leaned out the driver’s side window as Steve loaded the box of supplies and his new shield into the carriage.  “We still need supplies and gas.  Any idea how long we’ll need to plan for?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said, clambering into the car. “That gauntlets took me a day but that was when I already had an arc reactor to work with.  It might take me a week or two – but what if that’s too long?  What if Hydra attacks while we’re away?”

Steve climbed into the other side when he was satisfied that nothing would bounce around and fall out of the carriage’s doors.  “We’ll take it a day at a time,” he said.  “Expect the best and plan for the worst.”

“So we’re putting our faith in the Queen’s soldiers?” Tony said, scowling.

“They’re good people,” Steve said.  “They can hold Hydra off in time for us to rush back if need be.”

“How do you know?” Tony said.

“I feel like I should be offended,” Rhodey said.

“Don’t be,” Tony said.  “It’s not you I don’t trust – it’s the rest of the damn world.”  He scowled as his bags shifted and fell onto his lap as Rhodey drove them around the corner.  “I hope we make it there before dark.”

“Me too,” Rhodey said with a sigh.

 

 

With their car loaded up with supplies, enough for three weeks or more, they set off down the main road out of town, mindful of the other vehicles cluttering up the road and people walking around them.  With Rhodey concentrating on the road and Pepper keeping an eye on the map Jan had left with Tony’s letter, it fell to Steve to keep an eye on everything else while Tony scribbled notes in the sketchbook he had borrowed from Steve’s bag.

The roads weren’t as empty as Steve had expected. The threat in town had made quite a few people decide to head out of the city even though it was probably the safest place for those who didn’t have countryside retreats to head off to, and the drive took far longer than it should have.  Steve found himself watching the crowd anxiously at times, because there were almost too many people around for one person to watch.  The good thing about the mass exodus was that with all the cars and trucks on the road, it was very hard to see who was driving what, but with all the extra baggage around, it gave them both places to hide and places for their enemies to hide as well.  Still, the drive went very peacefully despite the chaos going on around them, and by the time they reached the fork in the road that divided the countryside from the mountains, they were on their own with no one else in sight.  There was nothing but trees and grass in the distance, and unless someone had gotten out here earlier, it was unlikely they were being followed.

Still, Steve felt uneasy.  He kept a keen eye on the horizon, scanning every few minutes, glad that the serum had given him super-sight as well as super-strength.  Even though there were no other vehicles in sight, it felt like someone was watching them – or at least, to him it did.  No one else seemed to notice that anything was amiss, and by the time the sun set Steve began to think that he might be imagining the danger.

They reached the mountain trail as the light was finally fading from the sky.  The road here was shielded by trees on both sides and the ground was icy, coated with a thick layer of snow that crackled under their tires.  The further up the path they went, the deeper the snow got.

They got stuck a handful of times.  Steve got out and pulled the car along until they reached firmer patches of snow, working tirelessly to keep them moving along.  The stars sparkled in the distance.  The air was crisp and refreshing; he didn’t mind the cold, or the work so long as they kept moving.

Tony, Rhodey and Pepper were silent for the remainder or the trip. 

They drove on.

Day broke; they emerged through the trees and drove through a brick-walled gateway that stood as tall as Steve and found that the so called cabin Jan had purchased was more like a miniature castle that could withstand a barrage.  Runes had been carved in the stone, and all of them were still active; they passed with ease, and relaxed when Tony informed that no one save them would be able to pass through.  The runes were set to allow only the people the owner wanted inside, and they had been well-maintained.  

Steve got out of the car first and did a thorough sweep before waving for the others to join him.  He relaxed for the first time since they had left the city.  Here, there was no danger – aside from the possibility of Tony blowing them up with the Alchemic Forge.

“You know,” Pepper said as she helped carry their supplies to the porch, “When Tony told me you were strong I didn’t think that meant you could pull all of us plus the car and a carriage up the hill all on your own.”

Steve smiled wanly.  “There’s a lot to the serum that Howard Stark probably didn’t know,” he said.

“Serum?”  Pepper frowned.  “What serum?”

“Super Soldier Serum,” Rhodey said as he walked past them with an armful of supplies.  “He’s the Captain, Pep.”

Pepper dropped her box.  Steve caught it with one hand.

“You’re him?  You’re _The Captain_?” Pepper said, in awe.  “I thought the Captain was up on the Front leading the charge against Hydra.”

“They sent me home a long time ago, I’m afraid,” Steve said, handing Pepper back her box.

“But – why?”  Pepper asked, following Steve inside, marvelling as he carried a stack of boxes inside without so much as a grimace.

“Someone I loved died,” Steve said, putting his boxes inside on the table beside the front door, mindful of the weight.  He was surprised how easily the words had come.  Before now, Bucky’s death had always been bordering on too painful to talk about.

“This place is huge,” Pepper said, setting her box down beside Steve’s boxes.

Jan had been true to her word.  The cabin was fully stocked with everything they could possibly need to survive in the wilderness; they almost hadn’t needed to bring any supplies with them.  She must have put as much money into the cabin as she had the Wasp and Ant.  Steve roamed the house with Pepper at his side, taking in the layout.  The Alchemic Forge was beneath the kitchen in the cellar; the door that led to it was wide open and they could hear Tony muttering to himself as he sorted through the treasures he had found from the top of the stairs.  There were five different rooms that could serve as bedrooms – each with their own bathroom, a spacious living room and dining room, and a kitchen that was fully stocked with all the utensils and tools they would need to cook damn near everything.

Rhodey let out an excited whoop as he set his box down and closed the front door, locking it with a flick of his wrist.  “That’s the last of it,” he said.  “Did everyone pick a room?  Not that we’re running out of space or anything.”

“I’m sure Tony will sleep wherever Steve is,” Pepper said with a soft smile.  “My room is the one with the peaches on the walls.”

“Right,” Rhodey said.  “I’ll take the one with the marigolds.”

“I guess I’ll take the one with the red and gold tulips,” Steve said.  “Jan really does like flowers.”

“The Wasp _loves_ flowers,” Rhodey said with a chuckle.  “You don’t know the half of it.”

“There’s no dust on anything,” Pepper said, running her finger along the shelf in the living room.  “It’s kind of creepy.”

“It’s the runes,” Rhodey said.  “She had special ones installed to keep dust away.”

“Clever,” Steve said.  “I should get some of those for home.”

“Same here,” Pepper said.  She scowled.  “Why didn’t Tony ever mention he could do things like that?”

“He doesn’t like it,” Rhodey said.  “He thinks its not worth the effort because you can just do that yourself.”

“And yet, strangely, I’ve never seen him dusting,” Steve said with a grin.

Rhodey smirked.  “Neither have I,” he said.  “I think if I did see him pick up a duster I’d be worried – very worried.”

Steve buttoned up his jacket again and picked up his shield.  “I’m going to take a look outside again,” he said.

Pepper sighed.  “We just got inside and he’s already raring to go around patrolling,” he said.  “Do you ever take breaks?”

“Every once in a while,” Steve said with a wink.

Pepper chuckled.  “I’m going to get some coffee going,” she said.  “Don’t stay out there too long.”

Rhodey followed Steve out onto the porch, closing the door slightly behind him to keep the cold out.  He leaned closer as Steve pulled on his gloves.  “Do you think someone will be out here?  It looks pretty calm to me.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re alone,” Steve admitted.  “But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Fair enough,” Rhodey said.  “You’d better make it a quick patrol.  Pepper’s coffee always tastes like magic, and Tony’s liable to drink the entire pot if he gets his hands on it first.”

“I’ll make it a quick trip then,” Steve said.  “Don’t worry – I’ll be back soon.”

 

 

The snow was deep outside the brick walls, and while snow wasn’t falling, it would be soon.  There was a chill to the air and the wind made the cold seep into his very bones despite his thick coat.  Steve walked the perimeter of the house, checking the runes and for anything strange.   It was mid-morning, but it felt like midnight.  Steve shivered.  He had felt cold like this on the day he had seen Bucky for the last time; the snow had been falling then, and it hadn’t been expected.  It had come out of nowhere and left them all staggering and blind.  There had been rumors that it was an alchemist’s work, but no one had ever been able to prove it for sure.

Steve paused to squint into the distance.  The trees were all dusted with thick reams of snow and the snow that he hadn’t walked through was pristine, untouched by anything other than a bird’s feet.  Knee-high and heavy, it would be unlikely that someone would sneak through without leaving a trace behind.  If it was disturbed, they would be able to easily track whoever it was that had paid them a visit.

Steve whirled; the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end.  Someone was watching them – or something was.  He did another quick sweep of the horizon and hurled his shield when he saw movement, sending it spinning off into the distance.

A raven let out an indignant quark and flew from its perch; the branch it had been sitting on waved, showering snow down onto the shield where it was embedded in the tree trunk below.  It had been nothing after all.  Grumbling to himself, Steve trudged into the thick snow to retrieve his shield.  It was probably just his nerves acting up.  He hadn’t been anywhere this quiet in a long time, and they were isolated here, trapped in a world of new sounds and little ambient noise that wasn’t provided by nature.  They would have to keep an eye on things, but he could share that burden with Rhodey, and if they had to sleep in shifts to be sure they were absolutely safe at all times, then he was sure they would be able to do just that.

 

 

For three days and nights, Steve patrolled on and off, switching places with Rhodey.  He was always on the move if he didn’t have to eat or sleep, and he used his time to get better at throwing around his shield.

Tony worked with the Alchemic Forge the entire time, coming up for air only when he was too exhausted to continue working.  Steve rarely crossed paths with him no matter how varied his and Rhodey’s patrol shifts were.  They never seemed to be able to find each other even though they shared a bed.  Steve wasn’t entirely sure whether he should drift down to Tony’s workshop.  He knew that Tony wouldn’t mind him being there but he didn’t want to get in the way if it meant slowing down Tony’s progress.

On the fourth morning, as Steve was heading out through the front door for his first patrol of the day, he spotted movement in the bushes.  He had been startled by movement outside the cabin’s brick-walls in the bushes before, but this wasn’t the normal bird or squirrel going for a jaunt.  This was something else.

Steve ran.  He moved as fast as he could, leaping over the brick walls guarding the cabin and landed in the now waist deep snow.  He trudged through, heaving snow out of his way in a spray, not even slowing down.  He was too late.  By the time he made it to the spot he had noticed movement in, even though he had moved as fast as he could, the intruder was gone.  All he had for his efforts was a set of half-swept away footprints that disappeared into nothingness and an ache in his lungs. 

Who had been watching them?  Clearly this was a person – there were trademarks in the footprints and they were ones he recognized as military but he couldn’t tell which side they were from.  Boots were boots.  Anyone could be wearing them – Hydra or the Queen’s men.  Why had there only been one spy?  Was it an advanced search party?  Or was it just one person keeping an eye on them.  They were far enough away from the city to not be a threat to Hydra, so it made sense that they would send a small party to keep an eye on them – but still, it could very well be a trap.  He glanced around in the snow, hoping to not miss a detail but found nothing other than the footprints.  Whoever it was that had visited was long gone.

Steve hurried back to the cabin, utilizing the path in the show he had already made as to not leave any footprints behind.  He checked the car and wagon for signs of tampering and found everything safe.  The runes surrounding the cabin had done their job.  He went inside, shaking off the snow that clung to his legs and arms, locking the door firmly behind him before doing a systematic sweep of the building.  They had agreed to keep all windows and exterior doors locked as a precaution, and as Steve searched he saw that everyone had kept their word.  No one had left a way inside – if an intruder wanted in they would have to work for it.  The cabin was safe.

Rhodey woke with a snort when Steve opened his bedroom door.  “What’s going on?”

“Get dressed and come downstairs,” Steve said, grimly.  “Someone was outside watching us.”

 

Tony sipped his coffee as he listened in silence. 

Steve explained what he had seen and done, keeping it simple.  When he was finished, Tony calmly drained his drink, got up and went back downstairs.

Pepper pursed her lips.  “He took that remarkably well,” she said.

“That’s because he was expecting it this time,” Rhodey said with a sigh.  He rubbed at his eyes and took a sip from his coffee again, grimacing.  “Why is it this stuff always happens just as I go to sleep?”

“I guess you’re just lucky,” Pepper said with a sigh.  “So what do we do now?  Do we arm ourselves?”

“Yes,” Rhodey said.  “But we keep what we’re doing hidden.  If it’s one guy, we want them to think they got away with it – if they come back and we’re lucky they’ll be alone and cocky.  Then we can take them down and find out what’s going on.”

“I’m pretty sure the person I was following knows I saw them,” Steve said.  “I’m not so sure that’ll work for too long.  If they thought I was suspicious before they’ll know I’m on high alert now.”

“Ok,” Pepper said, clapping her hands together.  “I’ll put our things together so we can bug-out if we need to.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow.  He hadn’t’ heard anyone outside of the army use that phrase.

Pepper smiled at Steve.  “Natasha makes me keep a bag at home for emergencies like this,” she said.  “She keeps us on our toes – and now I know why.”

“Alright – plan made, then,” Rhodey said.  “Pepper’s making bags for us and we start doing our surveillance sweeps from inside.  No one goes outside unless they’re in pairs and no one leaves the walls alone – that includes you, Captain.”

Steve nodded.  He didn’t want to get caught alone outside.  It was different when he could catch the enemy by surprise, but now that they knew that he was looking for them, it would be too dangerous to keep the search up alone.  “We’re sure no one can get in from the roof or cellar?” he asked.

“Unless they brought an axe and or a goddamned bomb, yes,” Rhodey said.  “It’s runed too by the looks of things.  I took a peek at the siding the other day when I was getting ready for my shift – the wooden slats have runes carved into them, the same kind that guard the walls.”

“Great,” Pepper muttered.  “Just what I needed – more things to worry about.”

Rhodey put a hand on Pepper’s shoulder solemnly.  “Don’t worry,” he said.  “If they’re going to use a bomb they’ll probably do it long distance and we’ll hear it coming.”

Pepper groaned and put her head in her hands.  “Why did you say that?”

“For the record I hope this is just one of our guys keeping an eye on us,” Rhodey said.  “By the treads Steve described, it could be one of ours or one of the enemies – there’s no way to know until someone attacks.  As it stands now, we’re going to prepare for the worst.”

“Good,” Pepper said.  “At least we’ve got something to work with.”  She heaved a sigh.  “You should go downstairs and let Tony know,” she said to Steve.  “He’s going to be anxious and hurrying to get his work done – he might hurt himself if he’s not careful.”

Rhodey scowled.  “She’s right,” he said.  “You’d better go check on him.”

Steve nodded.  “Are you sure you’re up to taking a shift so soon?”

“I’ll be fine,” Rhodey said with a shrug.  “I’ve got coffee.  I’ll nap again when you come back upstairs.”

 


	4. The Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra was preparing for an attack - Would Tony be able to finish his work in time? Or would they be too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to poke at this and edit things. If you spot any errors, let me know and I'll fix them! Thanks for reading!

Steve waited patiently beside the Alchemic Forge while Tony worked.  He had already given Tony the speech about what they were going to do, but Tony had yet to respond.  He knew that Tony had heard him because Tony had heaved a sigh when he was finished and picked up a hammer in order to go back to work flattening out metal, but he wasn’t so sure whether Tony was alright with the plan or not.  There was a lot of work down in Tony’s workshop that couldn’t be packed up quickly and stuffed in a bag, and leaving would mean abandoning it to their attackers.  That couldn’t be making Tony happy.

Tony’s hammer blows got harder and harder with each strike.

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes.  Today had been a long day and it had barely started.  Tony hadn’t been up to bed yet and it was likely that he wouldn’t be go up now for hours.  He leaned against the table behind him and told himself that he didn’t have to worry – they had set up a plan, and they would stick to it, just like they had with every other plan.

Tony slammed his hammer down on the piece of metal in front of him and swore.  He threw the hammer onto the floor and put his head in his hands.

Steve moved slowly, wrapping his arms around Tony; he found no resistance, and as soon as Tony was pressed up against him, Tony crumpled and began sobbing.

“Why does everything bad follow me?” Tony asked between sobs.  He buried his face in Steve’s chest and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, holding on tightly as though afraid he might be yanked away at any minute.  “I’m not my father,” Tony continued, sniffling, “I’m not like him.  I haven’t sold my soul and everything I’ve ever made but everyone keeps coming in and acting like I have.”

Steve sighed and rocked Tony against him.  He wished he could punch Howard Stark in the face for what he had done to his family.  There was nothing Tony could do to fix the damage that had been done – there was nothing Steve could do either, for that matter.  The only people who could have fixed the mess were the people who had put Howard into debt in the first place, and they weren’t going to just let matters go because Howard was dead.  Howard had tainted the Stark name.  There might not be any way for Tony to reclaim it, even if his inventions were more amazing than anything Howard Stark had ever conceived.

“The worst part isn’t that he sold us off to the highest bidder to fund his projects,” Tony mumbled into Steve’s chest, “It’s that he sold me off before I even had a chance to do anything with my life.  I’ve had people pawing at me like I’m some kind of freshly baked cookie for years!  It isn’t even just the money that he got and never paid back – it’s my mother’s name too.  He took debts out under her name – Did I tell you that?  I can’t even go by her name – it’s all linked to him.  He ruined everything.”

“We’ll help you get your name back – Pepper, Rhodey and I will do whatever it takes,” Steve said firmly.

“I don’t think it’s possible unless I do something big,” Tony said.  “But thank you.  It’s a nice thought, but I need to do this with my own hands.  I need to build my way out of the hole Howard left me in and I know I can do it, I know I can, if I can just get this project finished and get my flying machines in working order I can do it – I can wipe the filth he left all over his name and I can make it better.”

“Worse comes to worse,” Steve said, softly.  “You can always take my name.  It’s still got some good left in it.”

Tony looked up at Steve, wiping his eyes on his arm.  “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am,” Steve said.  “If you want it, the name’s yours.”

“It’s a good name,” Tony murmured, smiling crookedly.

“It is,” Steve agreed.

“I’ll think about it, alright?  I’m not ready to give up on mine just yet,” Tony said.  He heaved a sigh and turned in Steve’s arms but didn’t pull away.  “I need to finish this first before Stane makes something from my blueprints and claims it as his own.”

“How much longer do you think you’ll need?  We’re preparing to grab our things and leave if we have to – Pepper’s putting a bag together for everyone,” Steve said.

“Good,” Tony said.  He slipped free from Steve’s grasp with reluctance and scratched his head, peering down at the pile of armor on the tables around him, all of them in various stages of completion.  They shimmered with runes in red and gold, the metal silver and coarsely shaped, all of it prototypes that Tony was likely itching to improve even though he had barely completed them.  It was remarkable how much he had completed in the few short days since they had arrived.

“I’ll get it done soon,” Tony said, picking up his hammer.  “Give it another few days and I’ll be done.”  He turned and grinned at Steve, the bags under his eyes alarming.  “Can you go upstairs and make me something to eat?  I’m starving.”

Steve chuckled.  “Sure, Tony,” he said.  “Whatever you need.”

 

 

Steve woke with a snort.  He had just gone to bed after a ten hour shift of guard duty and while his mind was still awake his body had decided that he was going to stay down until it absolutely had to get up.

Pepper touched Steve’s shoulder again.  “Steve?  Are you awake?”

Steve yawned and rubbed at his sore eyes.  He felt guilty for falling asleep so quickly but there had been no helping it.  The super soldier serum liked it when he got his rest, whenever that might be.

“Steve?  I need you to focus,” Pepper said.

Steve stiffened.  Sleep was still tugging at him but he could tell by the way Pepper was speaking that something was wrong and that unnerved him enough to catapult him from his dreams.

“Steve?  We saw an explosion in the distance,” Pepper said.

Steve jerked upright.  “An explosion?  Where?”  From the mountains it was easier to see the city but the trees and distance made it hard to see where things were happening aside from giving them a vague vicinity. 

“It’s in the city,” Pepper said.  She grabbed Steve by the arm, pulling him towards the edge of the bed.  “Steve – Tony took his suit out for a test flight when he saw it happen.  He’s gone.”

“Gone?  What do you mean gone – where did he go?  Is he coming back?” Steve said.  He pulled on a jacket, glad that he had gone to bed fully dressed and hurried to put on his shoes, hopping on one foot at a time.

“Steve – wait!” Pepper said, running after Steve to the front door.

Steve yanked open the door and was greeted by waist high snow and a storm so intense it nearly blew him back into the house.  He closed the door before more snow could pour into the doorway.  His jacket wasn’t going to cut it; the air was so cold, he could see his breath and the wind was strong enough to cut him to the bone.  The roads wouldn’t be passable with that much snow, and even if they had been useable he wouldn’t be able to see anything.  He cursed.

Pepper pushed a pack into Steve’s hands.  “Steve – listen to me,” she said.

Steve took the bag, bewildered and jittery, his mind racing as he tried to figure out the best way to leave and find Tony.

“Rhodey and I can’t make the trip with you,” Pepper said.  “You’re going to have to go by foot.”

“Right,” Steve said.  He felt silly, but glad that Pepper had made the plan for him.  He had been commanding soldiers for years but for some reason he hadn’t been able to think straight and make that call himself.

Rhodey slid into the room, with Steve’s shield in hand and a stack of jackets and shirts on top of it, nearly colliding with the wall in his rush.  He set Steve’s shield down and slung the clothing over his shoulder.  “Ok, big guy,” he said.  “Arms up!”

Pepper spun Steve around; together, she and Rhodey took off Steve’s jacket and layered him up with shirts and a second jacket before buttoning it all up for him.  Pepper wrapped a scarf around Steve’s neck and slipped a hat onto his head as Rhodey slipped gloves onto Steve’s hands.

“OK,” Rhodey said when they were done.  “I know this is crazy and reckless but we’ve got enough food up here to last us another month and we’ll be able to dig out by them once the storm dies down.  Tony, on the other hand, is a reckless jackass who just threw himself into what might very well be a goddamned battlefield.  You can make it to town alone, right?”

Steve nodded.  “It’s not going to be easy but I can do it,” he said.  He remembered the route they had taken to come in, and it would be easy to stick to it even in a storm.

“Good,” Pepper said.  “If Tony’s crash-landed – as unlikely as that might be, you’ll have to carry him in his suit and that thing is too heavy for me and Rhodey to move around.  You’re the only one that is going to be able to do it, understand?  I know we just woke you up and you’re still all groggy from being up for hours on end but we need you to do this, Captain.  You’re the only one that can.”

“It’ll be a miracle if Tony can walk inside the damn suit,” Rhodey said with a sigh.

Steve winced.  He hadn’t thought about that.  Tony could very well be lying in a field surrounded by snow, unable to move.  There was no time to lose.

“I’m going to go make coffee so we have something to worry over,” Pepper said.  She gave Steve a quick hug and nudged him towards the door.  “Good luck!”

“I’ll bring him home,” Steve promised.  He pulled on his pack and slung his shield on top of it, securing it with the handles through the straps on the front.

“Do me a favor,” Rhodey said as Steve yanked the door open.  “Smack Tony in the head when you see him, will you?”

“I might just have to do that,” Steve grumbled.

“We’ll meet you back in town,” Rhodey said.  “We’ll find our way back to your place so don’t bother coming here for us.”

Steve saluted Rhodey and gritted his teeth as he stepped out into the snow.  Maybe his nap hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.  He would need all the energy he could get to plow his way through the snow, and there was a hell of a lot of it to get through.

 

It took Steve ten hours to make his way down the mountain, even following the road.  Every step was agony.  The snow was thick and even though he was wrapped in so many layers his legs and arms felt numb from the cold.  He saw no sign of Tony in the snow as he passed and he hoped that that meant Tony had gone on to town instead of doing a slow circle or crashing.

Three more explosions went off in the distance as he traveled down the main road at a jog; after the last, he started running.

The city was in chaos.  There was fire spreading across the rooftops of the houses that remained and the buildings that had been hit by the bombs had been turned to rubble. Smaller explosions went off in the centre of town; their blasts shook the ground and sent the cobblestones into the air like dancing seeds escaping from dandelions.  People were screaming everywhere; no one seemed to know what was happening, and while most people were trying to flee, some were looting the shops and buildings that had been destroyed.

Steve stopped to help and woman and her child out from under a collapsed wall and had to force himself to ignore the looters.  He hurried on after receiving a sobbed thanks from the woman and child and made his way through the smoke and dust, trying to see if he could spot Tony somewhere in the fray.  Something above caught his eye and he stared slack-jawed up at what must have been the first prototype of Tony’s flying machine hovering there up above the city like a bumble-bee searching for flowers.  “The thieves built it,” he mumbled under his breath.  He didn’t even have to squint to see the giant Hydra skull on the side of the flying machine; it was the full length of the ship and stared down at him, a monster come to life with flaming eyes.  The airship was bronze and shined in the sunlight, its body round like a melon; the runes keeping it afloat sparkled in the light making it look like it had been covered by golden spider-webs.  He could see glass at the front of the airship where the pilot must have been seated, and there were portholes littered along the side of the ship, all of them filled with a mounted gun that pivoted side to side.  Something was pitched through the open porthole.  The building that was struck exploded into a cloud of dust and debris.  Flames licked at what remained and traveled on to the surrounding buildings, moving from miniscule to waves in a matter of seconds as they struck oil that had been tossed from the other windows.

Steve whirled, noticing more movement out of the corner of his eye and found himself face to face with Tony.  Tony was suited up and floating a foot above the ground; his suit’s face-plate was up and his face was streaked with soot and blood.

“Steve,” Tony said, his voice hoarse.  “I didn’t think you’d make it here so quickly.”

“When my idiot boyfriend goes flying off into the distance towards bombs, it tends to make me run,” Steve said with a growl.

Tony smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I should have woken you up but I didn’t think I’d go this far – I was planning on coming right back, but when I saw that monstrosity in the sky I couldn’t flee.  I had to stop it.”

“How long has that thing been flying up there dropping bombs on us?” Steve asked, burying his irritation away for later.

“They just pulled into our air space,” Tony said.  “I’ve been flying around trying to help people get out of its path.  They started the attack from the ground – most of the bombs and explosions that went off were all down below.”

“What did they go after?” Steve asked.

“Our house is still standing, but Bruce’s workshop is half-gone and the Guild of Alchemists looks like it’s going to need an entire rebuild from the ground up,” Tony said, grimly.  “They had targets and they went after only what they needed to hit.  If I had to guess, it was the explosion that took out the Guild of Alchemists that we saw first.”

“Did everyone get out alright?” Steve kicked a flaming beam of wood out of his way.

“Who knows?” Tony said.  “I’ve been looking but I can’t find anyone from the guild around.  Tiberius and the others must be out in their country estates – I doubt they stuck around after that meeting with Ms. Carter.”

“Have you seen her?  Peggy?  Is she alright?” Steve asked.

“I did,” Tony said.  “She’s been doing sweeps with the soldiers, helping people get out of the way while they set up defensive positions.  It’s slow going, but she thinks they’re getting a hold of things down here.”

“That’s good to hear,” Steve said, looking up at the floating airship. 

“She was alive the last time I saw her,” Tony said.  “She said she was surprised to see me alive.  Geraldine turned up dead this morning, and she figured I was another casualty.  She gave me shit for leaving you behind, by the way so don’t worry.  I’ve already gotten the smack Rhodey probably made you promise to give me.”

Steve chuckled.  “Good,” he said.

“We need to stop them,” Tony said, watching the airship.  “They’re going to burn the entire city to the ground if we don’t get up there.”

“I know,” Steve said.  He pulled his shield from his back and used it to knock away falling bricks.  “What do you need me to do?”

“We need to get up there,” Tony said, nodding to the airship.

“And how do we do that exactly?” Steve said with a laugh.

Tony cocked an eyebrow.  “You do realize that I’m able to fly, right?”

“Of course,” Steve said.  He lunged when he realized that a man was aiming a gun at Tony, swinging his shield with all of his might at the attacker’s gun.  “Look out!”

The attacker grunted but reacted as if he hadn’t been struck.  The man was dressed in Hydra armor, all of it black and sombre leather down to his boots.  He was wearing a muzzle-like mask with goggles that made him seem more monster than human as the light glinted off of the goggle lenses; his straggly brown hair was the only part of him that was visible.  His hands, face, and neck were all covered by armor, and not an inch of skin could be seen.  Steve had never seen a soldier dressed like this before.  Yes, he had seen soldiers wearing gas masks and goggles, but they almost never had their entire bodies shielded – it made them slow.  Or, at least, it should have made the man slow, but he didn’t seem to even feel the armor when he attacked.

Steve could barely block the attacks raining down on him.  The man moved with speed he had thought only super soldiers could possess; it was a miracle when the next shot he took at Tony’s head missed.   Steve took advantage of the mistake and attacked, striking at the man’s gun with his shield so hard that he split the gun in two.

The attacker didn’t even glance down at the gun.  He simply dropped it and started for Tony again, his movements mechanical yet swift.

Tony’s gauntlet glowed and whirred.  A beam of energy tore away from the device and struck their attacker squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards a good foot and a half.  “Back off, pal!” Tony snapped.

Their attacker shrugged off the attack and pulled a knife from his belt.  He ignored Tony and turned towards Steve, slashing at him.  Fabric fluttered as the blade sliced easily through Steve’s many layers, missing his skin by only millimetres.

Metal clanged against metal.  The man’s knife drew sparks as it skittered across Steve’s shield.

Tony fired his gauntlet again, knocking the man backwards once more.  “Steve – we don’t have time for this!”

“I noticed,” Steve said with a grunt, blocking another deadly slash.

“Take him down!” Tony spun in a lazy arc and blasted the debris falling down towards them, turning bricks to ash.  Somewhere in the distance, an explosion went off, sending glass into the air and debris rolling across the ground.

“I don’t have unlimited energy,” Tony said, “If we don’t hurry this up I won’t be able to get us up there.”

Their attacker kicked Steve’s legs out from under him and shoved hard, sending him flying into the remains of the building behind him.

Steve scrambled to get free.  When he emerged, punching and kicking rubble away, he found that the man had Tony in a chokehold.  The man was stabbing at Tony’s armor, trying to get it off, but his blows were blocked by Tony’s thick armor no matter where he aimed.  Tony’s closed face-plate gave the man no access to his face, and while Tony was cursing and charging up his gauntlets, the attackers seemed to be ignoring the imminent attacks that would be coming his way.  Tony fired off one, then two blasts, but the angle he was working with was poor, and the only thing Tony managed to hit was the very edge of the muzzle-mask. 

Tony struck again, scoring a direct hit on the straps keeping the mask in place; it flew off and hit the ground with a muffled thump.  The next blast burned the hair on the side of the man’s head, letting Tony stumble free as the man dropped the knife with a hiss of pain.

Steve raised his shield, ready to knock the man out and took a step back, horrified.  “Bucky?”

The man kicked at Steve’s shins, taking advantage of his loosed grasp.  “Who the hell is Bucky?” he snarled.

Tony froze.  “Bucky?  What do you mean – oh god.”

Bucky turned, attracted by Tony’s voice.  He looked the same as he had the last time Steve had seen him, minus the patch of hair that had burned off.  His cheeks were hollow, and his skin pale, as though he was still there in the snowy mountains where he had been lost.

Steve didn’t hesitate.  He hit Bucky with the shield, knocking him to his knees.  He couldn’t let Bucky hurt Tony – this wasn’t Bucky’s doing.  It couldn’t be.  Bucky loved Tony – he would never do anything to hurt him.

Bucky glared up at Steve.  His eyes were dark and ringed with black.  “Do it,” he grunted.  “Hail Hydra.”

A bomb whistled through the air above them.

Tony grabbed Steve by the arm and Bucky by the back of his armor and fired up his suit’s boots, sending them sailing down the street so fast, Steve’s eyes watered and stung.

The bomb exploded in the distance, close enough to hit them with debris, but not close enough to do any real damage.  Bucky grunted in Tony’s grasp.  Blood trickled down the side of his face painting his pale skin crimson.

Steve propped Bucky up with Tony’s help.  He felt along Bucky’s hairline, holding his breath, afraid of what he might find.  He let out a long hissed breath when he found a small bump on the back of Bucky’s head and a gash in his scalp; both were small but to Steve’s surprise, the injuries seemed to be disappearing, healing even.

“What happened?” Tony asked, flipping up his faceplate again.

“I don’t know,” Steve said.  “He got hit in the head but he seems alright – I think he’s healing.”

“How did they – I don’t –,” Tony stammered, rubbing a gauntled hand over his sweaty face.  “How is he still alive?  I thought you said he was dead.”

“I thought he _was_ ,” Steve said.  His mind was racing.  He could still see Bucky falling – could still see the snow and the blood that had been damn near everywhere – he forced himself to focus on the world around him.  They could deal with what had happened to Bucky later.  Right now, as much as he wanted to find out what had happened, he had a job to do.  They needed to stop the air ship above them from dropping any more bombs, and they couldn’t do that if they kept wasting time down below.

“What do we do now?” Tony asked, his voice soft.  His eyes were filled with fear and pain; the bravado that had been there before was gone.  “We can’t leave him.  He isn’t himself.”  He ripped the Hydra logo from Bucky’s armor and incinerated it with his gauntlet.

“He didn’t know us,” Steve agreed.  “But right now that doesn’t matter.”

Tony stiffened.  “Like hell it doesn’t,” he said.

“We don’t have the time – as much as I’d love to deal with this now it’ll have to wait,” Steve said.

Tony sighed.  He brushed Bucky’s hair from his face, his expression softening by the contact.  “What do we do with him?  We can’t leave him here.  If Hydra goons find him, they’ll just take him with them and I can’t – _we_ can’t lose him again.”

“We’re going to have to tie him up,” Steve said grimly.  “We can hand him off to someone to keep him safe.”

“We don’t have time to hunt anyone down,” Tony said.  “But – I can get you up there and keep him with me.”

“I thought you needed to destroy the arc reactor yourself,” Steve said, slowly.

“Oh, I’d much rather keep Bucky in one piece than get my revenge,” Tony said with a grimace.  “I don’t need to be there to destroy it – I can walk you through it step by step.”

“Do you think you can keep him with you if he wakes up?” Steve asked.  He pulled the scarf from around his neck and adjusted the remains of his clothing, shucking whatever layers that had taken the worst of the knife damage.  He handed the scarf to Tony and tore the clothing he had shucked into strips.  “You can tie him up with this,” he said.  “It won’t hold forever but it should be able to buy you some time if he comes to.”

“Alright,” Tony said.   “Here’s the plan.  We’re going to tie him up, I’m going to drop you off up there and I’m going to haul ass back down here to make sure he doesn’t wander off and vanish on us again.”

“I like that plan,” Steve said with a crooked grin.  Together, they bound Bucky with fabric, trussing him up like a thanksgiving turkey.  When they were finished, and Steve was convinced the fabric would hold, he stood and slung his shield over his back.  “Get me as close as you can to the air ship.  You can drop me if you have to,” he said.

“Roger that,” Tony said.  He hesitated only briefly before cupping Steve’s face and kissing him.  “You’d better get out of there in one piece.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Steve said with a laugh.

“The worst thing that could happen is the arc reactor goes off and you explode, taking half the city with you,” Tony said dryly.  “You’re going to need to take the reactor out of its casing.  If they’re using my design – and I’m pretty sure they are because there wasn’t nearly enough time to make one of their own – it should be relatively simple to do.  There’s a push mechanism built into the runes that activates when you draw these runes on it in blood.”  He drew the runes one by one with his fingers on Steve’s palm, his brow furrowed.  “Did you get that?”

Steve drew the runes on Tony’s hand with his finger.  “I’ve got it,” he promised.  He pulled his pocket knife from his coat and checked to be sure he had a sharp edge before putting it away again.

“If this doesn’t work, you’re going to need to crash the airship and get the hell away from it,” Tony said.  “It’ll be one hell of an explosion but I’m sure a super soldier like you can get away from it in time.”

“How far away do I need to be?” Steve asked.

“If you’ve got trees and mountains on your side, you shouldn’t need more than a mile,” Tony said.

Steve cocked an eyebrow.  “You seem to think I move a lot faster than I do,” he said.

Tony kissed Steve again.  “I know you’re fast,” he said.  “And you’ll be faster because you’ll want to come back here and have a damned awful conversation with Bucky.”  He pulled away slowly.  “You’d better come back to us.”

“I will,” Steve said.

“If you don’t,” Tony said, flipping his faceplate down, “I’m going to kick your ass and I’m going to let Bucky help.”

Steve chuckled.  “If you don’t, neither of us will ever hear the end of it.”

Tony laughed.  “Alright tough guy,” he said.  “Step onto my boots and let’s get this over with.”

Steve stepped forwards, delicately stepping onto Tony’s boots.  “I’d ask if you could hold my weight but I think you’d be insulted.”  He wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist and held on tightly, nervous at the prospect of being shot into the sky even if he did have Tony holding onto him.  “Is this alright?” he asked.  “Can you fly like this?”

“We’ll find out,” Tony said.  He fired up his boots and sent them hurtling up into the sky.

 

 

Steve felt like he was choking, yet he couldn’t find it in him to care.  The sky was beautiful up here amidst the clouds, and while he knew that he should be entirely focused on the airship, he couldn’t help but glance at the fluffy clouds as they passed through them.  It got colder the higher up they got above the airship, but at least they were out of range of the airship’s weapons.  Tony’s voice was hard to hear, but if he strained he could just make out the words.

“Are you ready for this?” Tony asked.

“Do it,” Steve yelled back as they did a lazy circle to get into position.

Tony twirled and sent them plummeting down towards the airship with a shrill whoop. 

The men guarding the airship’s top windows started firing and swearing, clearly not having expected an aerial attack.  Tony spun them around so his back was to the bullets; they plinked as they hit him and bounced off, falling away without leaving anything worse than a dent in the metal.

“Tony!” Steve shouted, terrified that the suit might not hold despite what he was seeing.

“It’s alright, Steve,” Tony shouted back.  He set them down on the roof of the airship and opened fire on the men shooting at him, blasting them with his gauntlets. 

Steve slammed his shield into the glass skylight they had landed on, cracking it more and more with each successful blow.  He kicked the window out and glanced over at Tony.  “Be careful,” he said as he dropped down to hang on the edge of the roof, preparing to head inside.  He watched as Tony flew up and flinched when someone threw a grenade at Tony.  “NO!”

The grenade exploded on impact.

Tony spun around and went tumbling down over the side of the ship, bouncing off of it before vanishing.

Steve heard himself scream Tony’s name; he heard the sound of bullets whipping through the air; he heard the sound of metal shrieking across metal.  He struggled to pull himself up so he could see what had happened, but someone down below grabbed him by the legs and yanked him inside.

Steve kicked with all of his might.  He rolled to avoid getting shot in the leg and spun in a circle as he pulled his shield from his back.  He took down one man with a quick blow from the shield.  Then he took down another.  He kneed a woman in the gut to keep her from throwing another grenade inside but she had already pulled the pin and he was forced to bounce it off his shield and up into sky above them.  He ducked behind a bulkhead as flames and shards of metal fell down on them.

An alarm started blaring, the sound breaking through the plinks of metal and glass hitting the ground.  He wouldn’t have long to get to the engine room and he had no way of knowing where it might be.  He assumed that it would be where Tony had placed it in his plans, down at the bottom of the ship so it couldn’t get in the way of the rest of the ship’s systems, but he wasn’t so sure he could trust Hydra alchemists to keep to the set plans.  Tony’s plans hadn’t called for turrets and holes in the side of the ship where bombs could be tossed out, after all.  Steve gritted his teeth.  He was going to have to punch his way through a lot more soldiers than he had though, and it made his heart ache in a good way.  He hadn’t thought he would get to fight Hydra forces again.  It felt good to be punching the bastards in the face again – it felt good to be of _use_.  If Tony hadn’t made it back down to the ground safely he would make them all pay.  They wouldn’t get away with what they had done today – not if he was still breathing.

 

Steve was bleeding when he made it to the engine room.  He chuckled to himself.  He hadn’t needed his pocket knife after all.  He had taken out seventy nine soldiers and two commanders to make it down here, and the command centre was empty; he had locked the remaining soldiers out by bending a metal bar around the door handle so no one save someone with super human strength could open it.

Someone screamed and charged at him.  He knocked his attacker out and pushed his way through the door the man had come barreling out of.  There, glowing in the back of the room was an arc reactor connected to a massive engine made up of more moving parts that Steve could count.  This wasn’t part of Tony’s design.  This was Hydra work.  Clearly the stolen alchemists hadn’t been able to figure out all of Tony’s airship schematics.  He approached the arc reactor cautiously, dodging sparks that flew from the reactor at him.  He jumped back when a bolt of greenish-blue energy flew out and struck the machinery beside him, making it seize and sizzle on impact.  It was no use.  The closer he got to the arc reactor, the more bolts of energy came flying at him.  He was forced to turn around and return to the door as the reactor began to glow brighter and brighter.

This wasn’t good.  He didn’t know what being struck by one of the energy bolts would do, but he could guess that nothing good would come of it.  He wouldn’t be able to get close enough to apply the runes and remove the reactor.  His only choice now was to crash the ship somewhere that wouldn’t cause the city harm.

He did the only thing he could do.  He ran for the control room.

The door opened easily under his deft touch; he threw the bar he had bent away and locked the door behind him before sitting down in the chair that sat before the console that controlled the ship.  He couldn’t understand half of what was there, but he did know how to use a steering wheel, and with the ship still floating lazily on its own, it was easy to start it moving agian.  His only chance now was for the arc reactor to hold out long enough for him to reach the snow; it was the only place where no one would be in danger.  He wiped at the sweat on his forehead, watching the world through the glass windshield in front of him.  Would he have time to get free before the crash?  The windows were thick, and he wasn’t so sure he could break them easily, even with the shield in hand.

Did it even matter?  Would escaping the blast let him survive?  Tony had seemed certain he would need to put a hell of a lot of distance in between himself and the reactor if it chose to blow, and he was exhausted now that he had fought his way through the ship.  Would he make it if he had to run?

Steve sighed.  Tony was going to be so mad at him.  He grimaced as the memory of Tony falling over the edge of the ship came back into his mind’s eye.  Tony had made it – he was sure of it.  Tony would be fine.  He was probably with Bucky now, making sure he was alright – everything would be fine.  If he didn’t make it out of this, at least Tony would have someone to take care of him.  Tony and Bucky could build a life together; he couldn’t be mad at that, even if he wouldn’t get to see it.  Tony and Bucky deserved to be happy.

Steve wiped his eyes and guided the airship towards the mountains.

 

 

Everything was cold.

Steve woke with a groan.  He couldn’t remember what had happened, but he knew that he had hit the mountains – he could still feel the way the metal had crumpled around him on impact.  He could hear someone shouting above him, but the sound was muffled and everything was dark.  He closed his eyes and slept.

“Wake up you jackass,” someone said, tersely.  “He’s never going to forgive me – neither of them are going to forgive me after what they made me do, but I have to fix this.  Please don’t be dead – please don’t be dead – please don’t be dead.  Steve?  Steve – you need to wake up!  Steve!”

Steve opened his eyes.  He recognized that voice.  Bucky, still clad in the Hydra uniform was kneeling over him with a blanket in hand.  Snow was drifting slowly down onto them from above, the flakes big and fluffy; there was smoke in the distance, and the ground beneath him was frozen, stamped down snow.

“You crashed the airship,” Bucky said.  He pulled off his gloves and carded his fingers through Steve’s blood-encrusted hair.  “Damn it, Stevie.  Why do you keep getting the shit beaten out of you when I’m not around?”

“You should be used to it by now,” Steve said, leaning into Bucky’s touch.  Bucky’s hand was warm, and he wanted more than anything to curl up in that warmth and never leave.

Something exploded in the distance.

Bucky grimaced and pulled Steve upright.  “He just had to go back there and get your stupid fucking shield,” he muttered to himself, throwing Steve over his shoulder. He took Steve’s weight as if Steve was still the stick-thin man he had once been and started walking, moving them away from the explosion.

Steve laughed and groaned.  His body felt like it had been bounced off of every damn rock in the area; his bones ached and he wondered idly if he had broken anything of if he was simply a living bruise.

“We’re a few miles away from that cabin of yours,” Bucky said.  “Tony’s going to catch up.”

“We can’t just leave him,” Steve murmured, eyelids drooping.

“He can fly, remember?” Bucky said with a snort.  “He’ll be fine.”

Steve sighed wearily.

“Don’t whine,” Bucky muttered.  “I swear, I go missing and the first thing you two get yourselves into is a fight with Hydra – and then you make it worse by crashing your ass into a damned mountain.”

“Is the city alright?” Steve asked.

Bucky stopped walking.  “The city?  The city is fine!  Steve – you’re the one in trouble here.  Stop worrying about the bloody city.”

Steve grinned.  He lifted his head when he heard the sound of Tony’s boots whirring in the wind.  “There he is,” he said. He could see his shield in Tony’s hand.  The armor was missing from Tony’s body in patches, and there was blood staining the fabric of Tony’s clothing below but Tony was grinning through the open face-plate and it was the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen.

Tony landed beside Bucky and immediately sank into the snow.  “Hello darling,” he said.  “I think you lost something.”  He leaned closer, heaving himself up so he could press a kiss to Steve’s lips.  He gave Bucky a kiss as well and leaned back on his heels grinning widely.

“You’re such a brat,” Bucky said with a soft smile, his pale cheeks going faintly pink.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, his teeth chattering.  “Let’s go home.  I want to warm up – and I’ve got two lovely super-heaters I want to crawl into bed with.”

Steve chuckled as Bucky’s cheeks went an even deeper shade of scarlet.  “I can’t wait,” he said.

“You two are strange,” Bucky mumbled as they started walking again.

“Well,” Tony said, trudging along beside him.  “We’re yours if you want us.”

Bucky swallowed hard and looked down at his feet. 

Steve shifted in Bucky’s grasp.  He motioned for Bucky to put him down and stood on trembling legs, cupping Bucky’s face in his hands.  “We mean it, Buck,” he said.  “Both of us.”

Bucky scowled.  “You can’t mean it,” he said, flatly.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Tony asked, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.  “Three handsome gentlemen like us?  We can make our own choices – and we all like each other.  It seems like a simple decision to me.”

“Why?”  Bucky said.  His eyes were wide and frightened.  “They had me kill people for them, Tony.  I’m not the man you knew before – I’m not the guy Steve knew either.”

“You’re ours,” Steve said, pulling Bucky into a hug.  He grinned as Tony joined them, glad to be at the centre of the warmest hug he had ever had.  “If you want us, we’re yours.”

Bucky hesitated, his arms held out in the air.  “I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“You don’t need to make any choices right now,” Tony said.

“We can wait,” Steve said.  “Just think about it, alright?”

Bucky wrapped an arm around Tony and his other around Steve.  “I’d be a fool to say no,” he muttered.  “I’ll think about it – I mean I’ve been thinking about it for years but I just – I’ll think about it.”  He pressed a tentative kiss to Steve’s lips and then quickly kissed Tony as well, grinning through tears.  “Are you guys sure about this?  You’re not going to change your mind on me, are you?”

Steve snorted and pressed his nose to Bucky’s throat.  “Sweetheart, someone would have to kill us to get us to leave you, and even then I’m pretty sure we’d fight our way up from the underworld to get back to you.”

Tony grinned.  “He’s right.”  He huddled closer and whined loudly when they separated.  “Why is it so bloody cold up here?”

“Snow tends to do that,” Bucky said with a laugh.

“Unfortunately,” Steve chuckled.  “You can’t have one without the other.”

“Just like us,” Tony said with a soft smile.

“Let’s go home,” Bucky said, wiping his eyes.  He knelt down so Steve could climb up onto his back and hoisted him up with Steve’s legs around his waist and arms around his neck.  “That bed of yours sounds great right about now.  I don’t like how cold it is out here.”

Steve rested his chin on Bucky’s shoulder.  “Being warm again would be nice,” he said.  “I’m pretty sure I had the ability to feel my toes and fingers at one point or another.”

“I don’t know if we should rush,” Tony said with a sigh.  “Pepper and Rhodey are going to smack me when they see me.”

“What did you do?” Bucky said, cocking an eyebrow.

“I kind of took my armor out for a test flight,” Tony said, clearing his throat.  “Without telling them where I was going.”

“I see,” Bucky said, squinting dangerously at Tony.  “And are you planning on doing that again?”

Tony grinned sheepishly.  “Probably.”

Bucky sighed.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ll try and give you both a heads up before I do it this time,” Tony said.  “I’m reckless, but I’d rather have my reckless jerks with me.”

“If you’re lucky, my having crashed an airship into a mountain might distract them,” Steve supplied.

Bucky groaned.  “Don’t remind me.  Why am I in love with you two again?”

“I guess we’re just lucky,” Steve said, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s left cheek.

“Very lucky,” Tony said, kissing Bucky’s right cheek.

Bucky scowled.  “Never mind.  I’ve changed my mind.  I hate you both.”

“Too late,” Tony said with a grin.

“Far, far too late,” Steve agreed.

“Hey,” Bucky said, as the cabin appeared on the horizon.  “Did I come here?  This looks _really_ familiar.”

“Did Hydra send you to watch us?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded.  “You were my mission,” he said.

“Then it was probably you running around in the bushes peeping at us,” Tony said with a wide grin.  “That’s a relief.”

“I was not _peeping_ ,” Bucky muttered.

“Sure,” Tony said.

“I was probably spying for strategic purposes,” Bucky said.

“Peggy will love that,” Steve said.  “I bet that’ll be in the report she writes when we get back to the city.”

Bucky scowled.  “You’re not making it easy to stop hating you two,” he said.

“Just think about the warm bed and food waiting for us,” Tony said, patting Bucky’s shoulder.  “And hey, it’s still really snowy up here so we won’t be able to go back for a while.  It’ll be just us.”

“Peggy’s going to worry,” Steve said.

“Nope,” Tony said.  “I saw her before I flew up here with Bucky to get you.  She knows we’re going to be busy – she told me to tell you that she’s taking care of things at home and that you’re not supposed to come back to town until she’s cleaned it up.  Apparently you owe her a favor and this is her way of making you pay it back.”

Steve sighed wearily.  “Well, I suppose I can stay here.”

“Good,” Bucky said.  “Then it’s settled.”

Tony grinned and looped his arm through Bucky’s.  “It’s settled.  The Queen’s army can take care of everything,” he said.  “And when we’re back in town I can track down whatever Hydra did with my plans and we can go destroy everything they hold dear.”

“Oh good,” Steve said.  “I like that plan.”

“Me too,” Bucky said.  “Let’s go.”


End file.
